


Missing Pieces

by zorac



Series: Life in Pieces [3]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-22 10:59:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14307216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zorac/pseuds/zorac
Summary: Short stories in the shared universe ofPiece by PieceandFallin’ to Pieces. There are a few bonus scenes for the two main stories, but these are mostly between them andPieced Together. Contains smut; see individual chapters for descriptions, pairings, ratings, etc.





	1. Which Truth?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some good news for Kate comes with a sting in the tail, and a difficult decision.
> 
> Set during PbP8/FtP3, but has spoilers for FtP4.
> 
> [G, Gen]

###### Kate

When a letter with the University of Pennsylvania crest on it arrives for me, I clutch it to my chest and hurry up to my dorm room. My heart is racing, and my nerves are jangling – the contents of this envelope could have a profound affect on my future. Once I’m safely behind a closed door, I carefully tear it open and unfold the sheets of paper inside.

I only read the first few words – _I am delighted to inform you that…_ – before I start bouncing around my room like a mad thing. “I’m sorry, Alice,” I tell my startled bunny once I’ve calmed down a little. “I’m not sure if my college dorms will allow pets, and I don’t think you’d like the trip to the East coast, anyway. But don’t worry, Lynn and Ruth have promised to look after you while I’m away.”

I sit down at my desk to read through the letter properly. My smile broadens as I learn that not only have I been accepted into an Ivy League university, but they’ve given me a grant too. It only covers fees, not accommodation, food, and everything else I’m going to need, but it’s still a massive chunk out of the student debt I’ll be accumulating. I stop cold when I get to the last page – it’s obviously not a standard part of the admissions packet.

_I have a somewhat unorthodox request_ , the letter from a lady in the admissions office begins. Apparently I’m not the only applicant from Blackwell this year; the other, of course, is Victoria Chase. Apparently they’ve got wind that she did _something_ bad last October, and so they’re asking if I would be willing to comment on her suitability – or otherwise – as a future Penn student.

This seems like a strange request. Surely they have plenty of other equally qualified candidates who don’t have such a blot on their record? I suspect that there’s something else at play – most likely family money – that means they can’t afford to reject her out of hand. Presumably they want to gather more evidence before rendering a verdict. The letter goes to great pains to say that I’m not expected to respond if it makes me at all uncomfortable but, considering the good news they just gave me, it would seem rude not to. What to tell them, though?

The truth: that Victoria was a bully, the archetypal Mean Girl. She didn’t hesitate to make other people’s lives miserable just to cement her social status. She drove me to the brink of suicide; if Nathan hadn’t shot Chloe… sure, Max has told me that she was able to talk me down in that other timeline, but what if she hadn’t been there? I know I have some survivor’s guilt, too, and somehow it feels like that’s Victoria’s fault as well. College is my chance to make a fresh start, to leave all this baggage behind. Will I still be able to do that if Victoria Chase is there as well?

Or, the other truth: that Victoria has changed. I realized that months ago; the image of her sobbing on the floor of a classroom still haunts me. The person she _was_ would have simply shrugged off what I told her with an acerbic “whatever.” The person I occasionally share a lunch table with has little meanness left in her; what remains seems instinctive, and is always quickly retracted. Do I have the right to deny Victoria her dreams just to make my life a little less uncomfortable? Do I need to punish her again, or has she already punished herself enough?

I wake up my laptop and open new document. For a minute or so, I just sit there, staring at the blank page and considering my options. Then, my decision made, I begin to type.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended reading order: [Chapter Nine](/works/12393543/chapters/33980979) of _Piece by Piece_.
> 
> I’m afraid I’ve not been making much progress on the next chapter of _Piece by Piece_ ; my plot bunnies all seem to have migrated to greener pastures at the other end of the timeline — I have a few more chapters of this, but they all take place after the main story ends, so I won’t be posting them any time soon, either…


	2. Reclamation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A photography project gives Kate a chance to reclaim some of the control that was taken away from her.
> 
> Set during FtP5.
> 
> [G, Gen]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is less of a deliberate bonus scene, and more of an “I planned it, then forgot to write it” scene. Probably for the best, as I think it works better from Kate’s PoV.

###### Kate

When we were given a photography project where we had to take the work of a famous photographer, and recreate some of their shots – but with a twist – I knew exactly what I wanted to do. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I _needed_ to do it. When I first explained my idea to Tori, she was horrified but, with a little persuasion, she eventually agreed to my plan. It helped that I had some very good reasons for wanting to do it, although I may have played a little on her lingering feelings of guilt, too – not something I’m proud of.

Over the next few days, we thrashed out the details of the shots we wanted to take, then did some location scouting. Having Victoria’s lighting gear to play with gave us more options, although we ended up deciding to do a couple of the shots in our apartment building. When it came time to actually take the photographs, I was nervous – while I hadn’t spent that much time behind the camera compared to Victoria or Max, I had even less experience at being in front of one. I might not be comfortable about it at first, but since that _was_ the whole point of the exercise, I threw myself into it anyway.

The following week, it was time to present our work to the class. When our turn came, Tori hooked her MacBook up to the projector while I went up to the front of the room. “Hi, I’m Kate, and I’ve been working with Victoria on this project. As our subject, we’ve chosen Mark Jefferson.” I knew that behind me, some of his most famous photographs would be showing on the screen. There was a rumble of voices from the other students; they didn’t seem happy with our choice. “It sounds like you’re aware of Jefferson’s… later work,” I said, “but you won’t have seen any of it – until now.”

There’s a gasp of shock from the class as the first of three pictures that I’d obtained copies of from the ABPD goes up on the screen. I’m sat on the floor, with my knees up, my back against the wall, and my wrists and ankles clearly bound with duct tape. “Yes, that’s me; and no, I was _not_ a willing subject. The reality behind that picture is a little more like this.” I half-turned to look at a new image, this one taken by Tori. The pose is the same, as is my outfit and the duct tape, but instead of the pristine white of the Dark Room, I’m in a dark alley, a discarded needle on the ground beside me – and instead of a drugged expression, I stare accusingly at the camera.

In the second of the originals, I’m lying on my side, with a wide-eyed vacant stare, and my hands secured out of sight behind my back. “I’m not a big believer in suffering for my art, and I certainly don’t believe in suffering for somebody else’s art. Jefferson would have had no trouble finding willing models for his work; he _chose_ do it this way because he believed the drugs would give him the shots he wanted, and he didn’t care about consent.” We’d staged our recreation of that picture in the half-open trunk of Tori’s car, to suggest how I was taken. It was Tori’s idea to add a gag, and some make-up bruises to suggest that this time I hadn’t gone quietly. “I’m sure that none of you would ever consider something so… evil, but never lose sight of the fact that the people in front of your lens are real human beings who deserve to be treated with respect.”

The third Dark Room photograph has me lying on my front, on the floor; seemingly asleep, with no visible bindings. Somehow it’s the one I find the most disturbing, because it’s the one that most objectifies me. My response to that was to objectify _myself_ , by moving the scene to my bed. We’d shot several versions with me in various states of undress; for the purpose of the class, I’d chosen the one where I was just wearing a pair of pajama shorts as a compromise which maintained my decency. Privately, I preferred the one where I was completely nude, but I wasn’t prepared to share _that_ with anyone.

“This wasn’t just an artistic exercise for me, it was a cathartic one, too. I’ve always used art to express myself when I couldn’t find another way. The circumstances around the taking of those original pictures lead to a series of traumatic events which have had a significant effect on my life since then. This project has allowed me to reclaim some of that, to take something bad and replace it with something good. Thankyou.”

I was taken aback by the applause that greeted me; I glanced over to Tori, who was standing with her hands clasped against her chest in the shape of a heart, and an expression on her face that I couldn’t quite interpret. Quickly, she smiled and gave me a thumbs up. I walked back to my seat, each step feeling a little lighter than the last.

It seems this worked even better than I hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended reading order: [Chapter Ten](/works/12393543/chapters/35078276) of _Piece by Piece_.
> 
> The next chapter of _Fallin’ to Pieces_ is almost done, so I should have that up next weekend. I think I may have miscounted by, like, a month when I set myself the goal of getting the two main stories finished before Season 2 comes out — that would mean six chapters in eight weeks. In theory, it’s doable if I can keep up the writing pace I had for Camp NaNoWriMo, but I’m not optimistic…


	3. Sisterhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruth Marsh visits Philadelphia for her big sister’s birthday, and they learn some new things about each other.
> 
> Set during FtP5/PbP10.
> 
> [G, Gen]

###### Ruth

When Victoria called me to say that she was planning a surprise party for my big sister, I was _so_ up for it. I haven’t been with Kate on her birthday since her junior year of high school, so I jumped at the chance now that we weren’t living so far apart. Plus, she offered to pay for my plane ticket, so there really was nothing stopping me. A couple of weeks later, I headed out to Logan to catch the flight down to Philadelphia. Victoria picked me up at the airport, and took me back to their apartment. Dana – another friend of Kate’s from Blackwell – arrived from New York not long after, and the three of us got the place set up for the evening.

The party was fun, even if I didn’t get to spend that much time with Kate; I knew I’d have plenty of time with her on the Sunday. Mostly I hung out with Aaron or Victoria – who I already knew – or Dana, who didn’t know any of Kate’s college friends either. They had this sing-along game on the TV, which was the perfect opportunity for Kate to show off – not that she even realizes that’s what she’s doing, of course. She was the star of our church choir back home for as long as I can remember, but she just has this obliviousness about how good a singer she actually is.

Because Kate wouldn’t give up on big-sistering me, she only let me have one glass of wine. I know she had more than that herself, because she was decidedly tipsy when she kissed Aaron goodnight and I helped her to her room. I can’t actually remember the last time we shared a bed; it must have been at least a couple of years ago. Back home, we used to do it all the time, whenever one of the three of us was feeling down, we’d climb in with a sister – Lynn and I still do. I _had_ forgotten about Kate’s snores though, until she started up. Sighing, I rolled her onto her side then, for good measure, snuggled in so that she couldn’t roll back. With the comforting smell of her shampoo filling my nose, I finally drifted off to sleep.

I was woken up by Kate trying to wriggle out of my clutches. I clung on tighter. “Nope, you can’t go,” I told her sleepily.

“But I really need to pee,” she said plaintively.

“Fine,” I said, over-dramatically, as I released her.

A couple of minutes later, she returned, pulled the drapes open, then got back into bed, turning to face me. “You okay? There a reason you were cuddled up with me all night?”

“Yes,” I told her, “it’s the best way to stop you snoring.” I put a finger on her lips to stifle her indignant response. “Besides, am I not simply allowed to miss my big sister?”

She smiled. “Of course you are. I missed you too. We should give Lynn a call later – I miss her as well.”

“I do have a question for you, though: how come I’m in here, instead of Aaron?”

“What? I can’t share a bed with him!”

“Why not? I know you take your pledge seriously, so I’m not suggesting you have sex, but you’re engaged now; wouldn’t you at least like to snuggle up with him at night? From what I know of Aaron, I’m sure you can trust him to keep his hands to himself.”

There was a long silence before Kate finally replied. “Maybe it’s myself I don’t trust.”

“Er… what?”

“I’m head-over-heels in love with Aaron. I think he’s gorgeous, and sexy, so of course I’d like to cuddle up in bed with him – and there’s a part of me that _really_ doesn’t want to wait another year to… uh…” She was blushing furiously. “The only way I can be certain of not giving in to temptation, is to make sure it’s never put in my path. What if on a night like last night we went to bed with inhibitions lowered by alcohol, and carried on a little further than we normally would, then that becomes normal and the next time we go even further…”

“Okay, I get it, sis. Honestly, I respect your commitment, and I admire your restraint.”

“Just wait until _you_ get a boyfriend. You’ll find out how hard sticking to the pledge is.”

I lay there for a moment weighing up my options. I decided it was time to come clean with her. “About that…” I began.

“About what? Mom told me you took the pledge, and she certainly would have mentioned a boyfriend if you’d had one.”

“Both true,” I confirmed, “I made a pledge that I would never sleep with a man before I married him, and I plan on sticking to it.” I took a deep breath. “But that didn’t stop me from getting to second base with my high-school girlfriend.” Kate’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “And if I meet a girl I like at college, I’m not going to wait for the church to be okay with gay marriage before going further than that.” I studied her face. “Are you disappointed in me?”

Her answer was immediate. “What? No, of course not! You’re my sister, there is literally _nothing_ that could stop me loving you. I’m certainly not going to ask you to change who you are just to conform to my – or our mother’s – beliefs.”

“So… you’re okay with me being gay?”

“Absolutely; It would be kinda hypocritical of me if I wasn’t.”

“How’d you mean?” I asked, baffled.

“Look at my closest friends: Tori may not be dating right now, but when she was, she never hid the fact that at least half the people she went out with were women. Dana might be with a guy at the moment, but her first college partner was a woman, and the reason we’re close is that she spent her senior year dating my Blackwell best friend, Max – who’s gone on to have two more girlfriends in college. I’m the only straight one in our little quartet!”

I smiled, my knot of nervousness melting away. “That reminds me, there was a time – before you told me about Aaron – when I wondered if you and Victoria were… more than just friends. The way you would talk about her, even more so the way she talked about you, how protective she is…”

Kate was blushing again. “No, there’s never been anything like that between us… Tori just feels guilty about…” she trailed off.

“I know, she told me,” I said, gently.

“Told you what?” Kate asked, her voice suddenly sharp.

“That she was a bully in high school, and that she hurt you really badly. She didn’t give me any details though, said it wasn’t her story to tell.”

Kate relaxed, a little. “Sorry. I still sometimes have this instinctive reaction when it comes to trusting Tori, even though she’s done nothing to deserve it since those first few weeks at Blackwell. And… maybe it’s time to tell you the truth about what happened; I can’t really claim you’re too young any more, and Mom isn’t here to tell me not to.”

“Okay,” I said, nervously. Somehow, the way she was leading up to this seemed ominous. I listened with mounting horror as she recounted how she was drugged at a party, and everything that happened in the days that followed. It’s not something I really want to think about, how close I came to losing my sister because what some monsters did to her almost pushed her over the edge. I’m not sure I could have been as forgiving of Victoria as Kate was, but I’ve seen with my own eyes how she’s changed. It’s hard for me to reconcile the woman I got to know over the past couple of summers with that girl Kate describes. I better understand now the guilt that drives her – or, at least, drove her; I suspect that at this point her actions are more driven by the fact that she genuinely cares for Kate.

The behavior of our mother and aunt, on the other hand, I can all too readily believe. I’m well aware of how judgmental they can be; it’s what’s kept me firmly in the closet – at least as far as my family is concerned. I pushed all of those thoughts aside, and pulled Kate into a hug. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that,” I told her, “and thank-you for trusting me with the truth.”

“You just trusted me with _your_ truth, sis, it only seemed fair. And I’m okay now, I promise; Max and I helped each other through a lot of sh–stuff that year.”

Eventually, the rumbling of one of our stomachs persuaded us to get up. Aaron was at the table, nursing a mug of coffee – Kate went straight over to kiss him – and Victoria was in the kitchen, mixing up some pancake batter. She turned to greet me as I walked over, and I slapped her right in the face. “Ow!” she looked at me with shock and hurt.

“That was for what you did to my sister at Blackwell,” I told her, and saw the immediate flush of guilt on her face. My voice softened as I continued, “and this is for everything you’ve done for her since then.” I put my hands on either side of her head, and pulled her into a kiss. Kate was right, this _definitely_ wasn’t Victoria’s first time kissing a girl. Once she got over her initial shock… wow! I’m not sure how long that went on – probably only a few seconds, even if it felt like longer – before there was a loud cough from behind me, and we sprung apart.

Kate was giving me a Look. I think she was going for disapproving, but I could see the hint of a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. Aaron, on the other hand, was sporting an excellent ‘what the heck?’ face.

“Um, Kate,” Victoria drawled behind me, “I think your sister might be a little bit gay.”

“More than a little,” I muttered.

Kate finally let the smile win. “I’m aware.” Her face grew more serious. “But nobody else should be. If this were to get back to our mother…” We both shuddered at the thought of that.

“Of course,” said Victoria, “I won’t even mention it in my journal – despite that being the best kiss I’ve had in over a year.” I’ll admit I felt pretty darn good about _that_ admission.

A few moments later, Dana came back into the apartment carrying a bag which, by the smell of it, contained freshly-baked croissants. She looked at us suspiciously. “What did I miss?”

Thankfully, Aaron saved the day. “We were just comparing hang-overs.” Dana’s eyes narrowed, but she let it go. Victoria had already started on cooking the pancakes, and soon we were all tucking into a carb-laden breakfast. Aaron headed off once we were done eating, promising to see Kate at church that evening, and Victoria took Dana to go catch her bus back to New York not long after. That gave me a few hours to just hang out with my big sister – always nice, even if it had barely been three weeks since I last saw her.

Victoria had offered to take me to the airport, so Kate wouldn’t miss her service, and I was happy for the company. “Sorry about that slap earlier,” I told her after I’d checked in. “Kate had just told me about what really happened at Blackwell, and…”

“No need to apologize,” she said. “I understand. I kinda deserved it.”

“Maybe, but you deserved the kiss, too. I’ll repeat what I said last summer – if Kate can forgive you, then I certainly can. Take good care of my sister, okay?”

“I always will,” she promised. I leaned over, and briefly kissed her on the cheek. “Is that all I get?” she asked, in mock dismay.

“’Fraid so; what happened earlier will never be repeated. Try not to miss me _too_ much.” I gave her a wink, then headed into security.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended reading order: [Chapter Six](/works/13286709/chapters/35249843) of _Fallin’ to Pieces_.
> 
> So, uh, this didn’t turn out quite as originally planned. Ruth Marsh joins the merry band of characters who have very definite ideas about how they want their story to go…
> 
> The first draft of chapter ten of _Piece by Piece_ (with overlaps with this scene) is mostly done, but I have a feeling it’s going to need a few rounds of editing, so it’s unlikely to be finished this weekend. Next weekend, for sure, and then I’m doing Camp NaNoWriMo with the hope of getting a chapter each of that and _Fallin’ to Pieces_ out in July.


	4. Scratching an Itch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year and a half after the accident, Kate deals with something that’s been missing from her life since then.
> 
> Set during the final chapter of _Fallin’ to Pieces_.
> 
> [M, F/F]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… this chapter is a little bit smutty, but in a way that I hope remains true to the characters as they’ve appeared in this series.

Tori came out of the kitchen carrying two large glasses – one of Long Island Iced Tea, the other of non-alcoholic fruit punch. Kate, curled up on the couch, happily accepted the juice; Tori toed off her shoes, settled down next to her partner, and took a long sip of her cocktail. “Ahh, I needed this.” She sat back, waiting for the combination of caffeine and alcohol to hit her bloodstream. The look of longing on Kate’s face was almost comical. “Tough day?” asked Tori; Kate nodded. “You _can_ have one of these, you know.”

“I _could_ , but since Erin didn’t have a feed before bed, we both know there’s a good chance she’ll wake up in the night wanting one, and I don’t want to have to refuse her. I could express, but it’s not the same. As for my day… now that _both_ of the girls can run around, keeping up with them is exhausting. I should have done more sports at Blackwell – it’s not like I’d be any more mobile, but at least I might have the stamina…”

Tori reached over to rub her leg. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I can take the day off tomorrow to give you a break if you’d like.”

“You don’t have to do that, I know your work is important to you…”

“…but you and the girls are _far_ more important. When I went back after my break, it was always the understanding that I was never going to be the full-time boss any more; Qadira did an awesome job in my place, and I want her to keep doing it. Sure, I still love what we do, but I no longer feel the need to micro-manage everything, and I trust my people to get along fine without me. Yes, there are always going to be projects I want to be involved with, or days when I really have to go in – but tomorrow’s not one of them. Anything urgent I can deal with by phone or email, and the rest can wait until I’m back. It’s more of a priority for me to make sure that that you get to relax. No matter how much you love Rachel and Erin, you’re going to need some time away from them every now and then.”

Kate nodded slowly. “It would be nice to get out of the house by myself, even if I just roll down to the café and do some writing.” She smiled. “Thanks, Tori, you’re so good at looking after me.” She rested one of her hands on Tori’s. “I do love you, you know, even if it’s not…”

“It’s everything,” Tori interrupted. “I’ve never needed anything other than your friendship, and you’ve given me so much more than that. Affection, a family… there’s _nothing_ I could ask for in a partner that you don’t give me.” Her throat suddenly dry, she took a long drink from her cocktail, before sitting back and regarding Kate. “There’s something else that’s bothering you, isn’t there?”

“I… uh…” Kate flushed. “Yeah.”

“Come on, you know you can tell me anything.”

“I’m… uh…” she took a big gulp from her glass, “really, _really_ … uh… horny.”

Tori had just taken another sip of her drink, and it came straight back out through her nose. “Oh,” she managed, grabbing some tissues from the coffee table to wipe her face and pat down her top. “This is going to need to go in the laundry,” she muttered to herself, before turning back to Kate. “I’m sorry, that’s just… not what I was expecting.”

“I never would have guessed,” Kate replied dryly.

“I mean, I don’t think that way at all, obviously, and you’re _you_ , so…”

“I’m not a virgin any more, Tori, and it has been eighteen months.”

“Masturbation not helping?”

Kate went bright red. “I don’t! I’ve never… Wait, you _do_?”

“Not very often; but if I’m really stressed out, it calms me down, or if I’m having trouble sleeping it can help with that. It’s not a _sexual_ thing, if that makes any sense.”

“I guess so. For me, it’s not just that I need a… an orgasm. I really miss the intimacy, too; the feeling of being so close to someone that for a brief moment, it’s almost like we’re one person.”

Tori gave her a long look. “I’m not going to get in the way if you want to start dating again,” she began.

Kate shook her head. “No, like I said when we were talking about getting this place together, I’m not interested in that – besides, it wouldn’t solve my immediate problem. I might not feel I’d have to wait until marriage the second time around, but I would still want things to be pretty forking serious before I’d even start considering sex.”

The two women sat in silence for a while. Tori’s mind was racing; a crazy idea had popped into her head, fueled by alcohol, a need for closeness, and her feelings for Kate. Eventually, she took a deep breath and asked, “do you trust me?”

“Of course.” Kate’s response was instantaneous.

“There’s something I’d like to try with you. It might makes us both a little uncomfortable, but I think it will help with… what you were just talking about. And… I admit that there’s something in it for me, too.”

“Okay, I’m willing to give it a try.”

“I’m sure this goes without saying, but if you want to stop, or feel too uncomfortable, or _anything_ , just say the word.” Tori put their empty glasses on the table and stood, then held out her hands to pull her friend upright and passed Kate her crutches. “Come on,” she said, snagging the baby monitor, then leading the way to Kate’s bedroom. Once there, after a moment’s hesitation, she began to undress.

“W… what are you doing?” Kate asked, blushing.

“Getting naked; it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” This was true, they’d lived together for years, and had inevitably come across each other in various states of undress, even before Tori spent six months needing to help Kate bathe.

“True,” said Kate, laughing nervously. “The first time was at the Waldorf Astoria, if I remember correctly.” She rested her crutches against the wall and sat down on the edge of the bed.

It was Tori’s turn to blush. “I’d forgotten all about that. It had slipped my mind that sharing a room meant I should actually wear something in bed, but I did try to be discreet!”

“I caught an eyeful when you were coming out of the bathroom in the middle of the night.”

“And did you like what you saw?” Tori asked, in an attempt to deflect her embarrassment.

Kate quirked an eyebrow, not rising to the bait. “I may be straight, but I’m not blind.”

That surprised a laugh out of Tori, causing her to fumble with her clasp of her bra. After a moment, she recovered, her bra and panties quickly joining the rest of her clothes on the floor. “Okay, your turn.” Kate hesitated, clearly apprehensive. “Do you need a hand?”

That shocked Kate into action. “Of course not! I’m perfectly capable of undressing myself.” Tori forced herself not to watch, instead arranging the pillows at the head of the bed so that she could recline there. “I’m done,” Kate told her.

Keeping her eyes locked on Kate’s face, Tori spread her legs wide and patted the bed in front of her. “Okay, you’re going to sit here, facing away, and lean back on me. We’ve done this before, just… with less nudity involved.”

“I can do that,” said Kate, more to herself than to Tori, and a few moments later, she settled into place, resting her head on Tori’s shoulder. 

Tori looped her arms around Kate, laced her fingers together, and rested her hands on Kate’s stomach. “How does that feel?”

“It feels… really good,” admitted Kate. “I’d forgotten how much I enjoy the sensation of so much skin-on-skin contact. I used to love lying like this with Aaron…” She turned her head to look at Tori. “Is this okay for you?”

“It’s… incredible. I’ve only had this kind of contact once before, and I think I’ve mostly repressed it. I remember holding Dana, just like this, the morning after… the night before. I was coming to terms with the realization that I’m ace, and what that meant; what I do and don’t want when it comes to physical intimacy. Dana was still pretty wound up, so I just held her while she got herself off.”

“Is that what you had in mind?”

“Yes – if you need an orgasm, you’re going to have to do it yourself. It’s not like there’s any other option that either of us is going to be comfortable with.”

“I know, it just feels… wrong, somehow.”

“That’s your mother talking; don’t listen to her. Have you really never touched yourself before?”

“Not by myself, but… sometimes during sex, if Aaron wasn’t quite hitting the spot, I’d… help things along.” Kate’s face was beet red.

“Then you already know what to do,” Tori told her. She hooked her ankles around Kate’s, and applied a little encouraging pressure until she moved them apart. Gently taking Kate’s wrist, she guided her hand down between her legs, before releasing it. For long seconds, neither of them moved. Then, where Kate’s forearm rested on hers, she began to feel the muscles flexing. “Yes, that’s it,” she whispered softly into Kate’s ear.

Kate’s motions began to speed up, and she started letting out humming sounds – which soon turned into low moans as she began rolling her hips. As Kate’s other hand found its way up to her breast and she began playing with her nipple, Tori realized that she could smell her arousal. Kate’s breath began to hitch and her body started shaking. Her moans grew louder as her head lolled back against Tori’s cheek. Finally, her back arched and her breath came in shuddering gasps, before she flopped back down like a rag doll, panting heavily.

“Oh, wow,” Kate managed at last. “I _really_ needed that.”

“I could tell,” Tori replied, with a hint of a smirk, and pulled her closer.

“I can move… any time I want to…”

“Moving is overrated.”

“That wasn’t too awkward for you?”

“No, it was amazing! Any time you want to do that again…” 

“I might just take you up on that. In the mean time, would you mind staying the night here?”

“I thought you’d never ask. Should I grab us some pajamas?”

Slowly, Kate pulled herself up. “No, not tonight.” They returned the pillows to their usual places, and then climbed under the covers. Tori lay back, and Kate draped herself over her.

“Is this okay?”

“Um… would you mind moving your leg?” Tori said, her voice tight. She briefly touched the hip above where Kate’s thigh was pressing up between her own.

“What? Oh, I am _so_ sorry.” She quickly shifted so that only their upper bodies were overlapping. “Better?” Tori nodded up at her. Then, without really thinking about it, thanks to her post-orgasmic haze, Kate pressed their lips together in a slow, gentle kiss. “Thank-you,” she said afterwards, “for knowing what I needed, even when I didn’t. But now… I really need to go to sleep.”

Tori tenderly stroked her back. “Okay. Goodnight, then, and sweet dreams.” Before Kate could respond, the monitor on the bedside table hissed into life and they could hear Erin starting to cry. “I’ll go see to her, I can bring her back through if she’s hungry.”

“Thanks, Tori,” Kate murmured, as Tori got out of bed.

Not bothering to grab a robe, she hurried through to Erin’s room and picked her up. “Hey, hey, no need to cry,” she crooned, cradling her daughter against her chest. “What do you want, little one?” By way of reply, the girl’s lips sought out her nipple. “Ow! Sorry, but you’re sucking up to the wrong mother.” Gently, she pulled Erin away as she carried her back to the other room.

“Hungry?” asked Kate with a smile; clearly she’d overheard Tori’s comment.

“I guess so; she’s never tried that on me before.” Carefully, she lowered Erin into her waiting arms.

“Here you go,” Kate told her daughter as she latched on; then, to Tori, “have you ever held her while topless before?”

Tori thought for a moment. “Well, no, I suppose not.”

“There you go, then; besides, I have seen her pawing at you a few times, so it’s really not anything new. Anyway, come back to bed, I’ll put Erin back down when she’s done feeding.”

Not wanting to argue, Tori did as she was told. Kate leaned forward a little, and she took the hint and slipped arm around her. The two women rested their heads together and sighed happily.

Peace reigned for almost a minute, until a small blonde head appeared around the door. “Mama? Why are you in Mommy’s bed?” Rachel asked, “and where did your pajamas go?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended reading order: Just keep reading _Missing Pieces_.
> 
> The first draft of the final chapter of _Piece by Piece_ is around 75% done so, barring disasters, I should have it ready to post next weekend.


	5. What’s in a Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dana, Max, Chloe and Emma officially become a family.
> 
> Set post- _Piece by Piece_.
> 
> [G, F/F]

“Okay,” said Dana into the telephone. “Yes… thank-you _so_ much.” She carefully set down the receiver, then let out a scream of delight, startling her wife. She began dancing around the room, quietly humming something to herself.

Max cocked her ear for a moment, listening for any sign that the noise had disturbed their foster children. “What’s gotten into you?” she asked.

“That was the agency,” Dana told her, a huge smile on her face. “We can sign the adoption papers tomorrow!”

“Eeeee!” squealed Max, before clapping a hand over her mouth.

“Shhh! You’ll wake the children!” Dana told her with a smirk.

Max flipped her the bird, then pulled Dana into her arms. “ _Our_ children,” she whispered.

“ _Our_ children,” Dana agreed, tears in her eyes, before lowering her mouth to Max’s. The kiss was eagerly returned, and they stumbled towards the couch, falling onto it in a tangle of limbs.

A few minutes later, breathing heavily and somewhat disheveled, the two women reluctantly separated. “So, um, we probably need to talk surnames,” said Max.

“What?” Dana was baffled.

“We need to decide if the kids are going to take one of our surnames, and which one – or even if it’s the same one.”

“Oh, right. Let’s see: Emma Ward… Emma Caulfield… Wait, isn’t there an actress with that name? She was in one of those teen shows with zombies or something.”

“Yes! It was…” Max caught Dana’s look. “Not important right now. So, probably not my name for Emma, and Chloe Caulfield just sounds like she was born with a silver spoon up her ass.” Dana sniggered, and Max gave a sad nod. “That’s why Chloe and I were doomed from the start – the alternative was I become Max Price…”

Dana burst into full on laughter and, after a moment, Max joined her. “So they should probably both take my name, then.”

“Yeah, although maybe we should ask Chloe first; she might want to keep her current name. I don’t want to force her to change it if she wants to keep that connection to her birth parents.”

Dana nodded. “That sounds fair. Still, are you ready to be the odd one out?”

“About that…” said Max. “I was thinking that if we change the kids’ names, I’d change mine too. It’d make life easier when dealing with schools, and…”

“Are you sure?” Dana asked.

“Yeah; we both kept our names after the wedding because there was no reason not to, but now… now there would be a reason.” She cocked her head thoughtfully. “I can see myself being Mrs Maxine Ward, instead of Ms Max Caulfield.”

Dana wiped away the tears which were forming the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know why, but that just made me fall in love with you all over again. I thought you hated ‘Maxine’, though.”

“It’s grown on me the last few years.”

“Well, you’d certainly make Vic happy,” said Dana with a grin.

Max rolled her eyes. “Because I live to make Victoria happy…”

“Nope,” said Dana, “that’s Kate’s job. Although Vic’s so far gone that Kate doesn’t have to actually _do_ anything…”

“To be fair, she has some serious competition from Rachel and Erin these days.”

“True. Their kids are _almost_ as adorable as ours.” Max smiled happily for a moment before continuing in a seductive voice, “so, Mrs Ward…”

“Yes, Mrs Ward?” asked Dana.

“How would you feel about continuing out make-out session?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” She pounced, catching Max off-guard and sending them crashing to the floor. After a moment, they both burst into laughter.

A few seconds later, they heard the sound of small feet running, and Chloe burst into the room. She regarded the two women dubiously. “What happened? Why are you on the floor?”

“We were… uh…”

“Having a tickle fight, and we ended up falling off the couch.”

“Grown-ups don’t have tickle fights,” Chloe told them authoritatively.

“Ah, but we’re not grown-ups, we’re just very big children,” Max told her.

“Speak for yourself…” muttered Dana as she got up, pulling Max after her.

“You were kissing, weren’t you?” Chloe wrinkled her nose. “I’m not a baby, I know about the things that grown ups like to do…”

“Anyway,” interrupted Dana quickly, “since you’re here, Chloe, there’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”

The girl seemed to shrink in on herself. “You’re sending me away, aren’t you?” The expression on her face combined disappointment with resignation, and Dana’s heart broke a little. She’d never dared to ask how many previous foster families the girls had had, how many times they’d been… sent away.

“What? No! We would never do that. In fact, we wanted to ask if you and your sister would like to have Max and me as your new moms.”

“You… you want to adopt us?” There was a mixture of hope and disbelief on Chloe’s face.

“Since the moment we met you,” Max assured her, “but it took the government a long time to decide that we were allowed to, and we didn’t want to tell you until we were sure we could.”

“So we’re going to be a real family?”

“If you want to, yes,” Dana said. Chloe’s response was to wrap her arms around the woman and burst into tears. “Is that a yes?” she asked after a minute or so, and felt a vigorous nodding motion against her torso.

“There’s one more thing we want to ask,” said Max. “Lots of families all have the same last name. How would you like to be Chloe Ward instead of Chloe Morrison?”

“But your last name isn’t Ward!”

“I’ll change mine as well. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, though.”

Chloe thought for a moment. “I think I’d like to change it. I want to have the same name as people who love me, not people who left me.”

Max knelt down next to her, tears in her eyes. “Can I have a hug too?” Chloe detached herself from Dana, and wrapped her arms around Max’s neck instead.

“Time for you to go back to bed, sweetie,” Dana told her after a couple of minutes.

“Okay,” said Chloe, letting go of Max. She headed toward the door, but stopped just before she reached it. “Does this mean I have to call you both ‘Mom’ now?”

Dana blinked. “Not if you don’t want to. You can keep calling us Dana and Max if you’d rather. Have a think about it; you can always change your mind later if you want to.”

“Okay. ’Night, Moms.” She was gone before either of them could manage a response.

“Did you see the look on Chloe’s face?” Max asked.

“The one that said she felt like the luckiest girl in the world?”

Max nodded. “If she only knew; there are two even luckier girls right here.”


	6. Taking Care of Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kate and Tori visit a toy store, and what happens next.
> 
> Set post- _Fallin’ to Pieces_ , this is also a follow-on to the previous Missing Piece, [Scratching an Itch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14307216/chapters/37531025).
> 
> [ Explicit, F/F ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this early, as I'm away over the weekend. Also... this chapter does somewhat push the boundaries of these characters, perhaps into OOC territory. I was somewhat tempted to flag it as non-canon, but in the end I decided to leave it to each of you to decide for yourselves.

“Why on Earth did I let you talk me into this?” Kate asked.

“Because you said you felt like there was something missing from…” began Tori.

“Yes, I know what I said.”

“And you didn’t disagree with my suggestion.”

“True, but I didn’t actually expect you to bring me to a sex shop!” Kate said plaintively.

“Just be thankful I didn’t tell the sitter where we were going before the movie,” Tori told her with a smirk. Before she could stay anything more, a staff member approached them. This was too much for Kate, she span on the spot and wheeled off down the adjacent aisle.

“Hi, is there anything I can help you with?” the assistant asked, her eyes darting after Kate.

“Er… yeah. Sorry about my friend; she’s a little uncomfortable being here.”

“Not a problem, lots of our first-time customers are. Is there something in particular you’re looking for?”

“Yes, actually. My friend lost her husband a while back and I, um, thought she could use a dildo, whatever you have that’s going to feel as realistic as possible.” Tori realized that _she_ was blushing now.

“Sure!” The assistant led her over to a display. “So, these aren’t cheap, but they’re absolutely the best thing on the market. As you can see, they come in a variety of sizes and skin tones. If you want to grab one of the display models, I’m sure you’ll agree that they feel incredibly realistic.”

“Never having been anywhere near the real thing, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Trust me, I have one of these at home. Is there anything you’d like for yourself?”

“I… uh… I’m ace, so I’m afraid you’re on a hiding to nothing there.”

“Fair enough; I’ll give you some privacy to try and get your friend to look at these. When you’re done, lube and cleaning wipes are over there by the counter.”

Tori went in search of Kate, and found her staring in horrified fascination at a mannequin sporting a strap-on and what looked like a painfully large purple dildo. “What do you want to bet that Dana and Max have one of those?” Tori asked, in a teasing voice.

“I think it would split me in half!” Kate exclaimed in dismay. “And thank-you _so_ much for putting that image of our friends in my head!”

“You’re welcome – and I only meant the harness, not something quite so… large. Anyway, you need to come and pick out your new toy.” 

“I though that’s what you were doing.”

“Yes, but you still need to decide on a size.”

“Oh, um, okay, that’s probably a good idea.” Tori led her over to the display that the assistant had shown her. Kate reached out to touch one, but hesitated. “Um, this is kinda awkward with you watching…”

“Would you like me to wait outside?” Kate nodded. Tori pointed out the lube and wipes, suggesting that she might want to get some of those too, then fled before Kate’s face could get any redder. She waited in the parking lot, leaning against her car, hoping she hadn’t pushed Kate too far. Their relationship had subtly shifted after the unexpected introduction of a more physical element a few months earlier. For Tori, it was the final piece of the puzzle; the occasional nights when they shared a bed were intimate, but not sexual – at least, not for her. When she held a post-orgasmic Kate as they drifted off to sleep, she knew that there was nothing more she could want from their relationship.

The problem was, she wasn’t sure if what they had was enough for her partner; Kate was always careful to qualify her declarations of love. As for their physical relationship… from what Tori had been able to piece together from the few times Kate had mentioned it, she and Aaron had enjoyed an active sex life, and it was clear that as her grief had begun to fade, her sex drive had started to return. Kate was straight; could Tori – an asexual woman – really give her what she needed? Could masturbation be enough for her? Their little shopping trip was an attempt to help Kate find an answer to that.

Not for the first time, Tori wondered if she was being selfish to cling to this relationship, if she was holding back Kate from finding someone who could give her what Tori couldn’t. Kate had assured her that wasn’t the case, that she had no interest in replacing Aaron, that she wanted to focus on her children. And so, Tori allowed herself to believe, because the alternative was to lose Kate, and Rachel, and Erin; not completely, of course, but they’d no longer be a happy little family unit. She certainly tried not to think about what would happen once their daughters had left home.

Tori was still lost in thought when Kate came out of the store, an anonymous black carrier bag on her lap. She stashed it in the footwell before getting into the passenger seat without saying a word. Tori quickly folded Serenity and stashed her in the trunk, then they drove off in the direction of the movie theatre.

* * *

It was almost a month before Tori found out about the contents of the bag. She’d assumed… hoped that Kate had been using it in the privacy of her own room, and Tori hadn’t wanted to embarrass her by asking about it. That evening, Erin had gone to bed well fed, so Kate had allowed herself a few drinks before suggesting an early night. Tori was surprised, then, at the knock on her bedroom door, followed by Kate coming in clutching _that_ bag, cheeks already pink. She made her way over to the bed, sat down, and carefully tucked her crutches behind the nightstand.

“So, I, uh… wanted to ask a huge favor. This is probably going to be way outside your comfort zone – it’s certainly outside of mine – so if you don’t feel it’s something you’d be okay with, please just say so and we can forget the whole thing.” Kate ducked her head. “I’m tempted to do that anyway,” she muttered.

“Why don’t you just tell me what it is?” Tori suggested, setting her Kindle aside.

Instead of saying anything, Kate reached into the bag, and pulled out a dildo. Tori immediately recognized it as one of the toys she’d shown Kate in the sex shop, and certainly not an over-sized one at that. She was about to ask what Kate wanted her to do, when she pulled something else out of the bag, what looked like a bundle of straps. It took Tori a moment to realize what it was, and that she’d seen one on a mannequin several weeks earlier.

Her eyes widened as she looked at Kate and asked, “did you want me to wear that?”

“Um, yeah,” Kate said shyly, her cheeks now bright red. “I mean, if you’re okay with that. It’s absolutely fine if you’re not. It’s just… using it on myself wasn’t really working for me. It didn’t feel right that it wasn’t attached to a person. Ugh, what am I saying? Why don’t we just forget I ever mentioned this?” Kate was beginning to babble, and Tori silenced her with a finger to her lips, then picked up the harness.

“You’re sure this isn’t just the alcohol talking?”

Kate shook her head. “I’m not doing this because I’m a little bit drunk; actually, it’s the reverse. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, and I needed something to lower my inhibitions enough to actually go through with it. It’s not like this is some spur-of-the-moment thing, I did have to buy… that.” She gestured at the harness.

Tori decided not to mention that said purchase itself wasn’t exactly premeditated; instead, she nodded. “Okay, then, as long as you’re sure. You might have to help me out with this, though. Did it come with any sort of instructions?”

“Yes!” Kate fished a sheet of paper out of bag as Tori emerged from under the covers, already nude. It took the two of them a few minutes, but eventually the dildo was firmly strapped in place.

Tori looked down at herself. “This feels really strange. So, um, what now?” By way of an answer, Kate pushed herself up from the bed and pulled Tori into a kiss. She was caught off guard by that, and again as Kate deepened the kiss; they’d kissed a few times before, but never with such purpose, and only ever after Kate had come in her arms. Tori quickly adjusted and responded – this was something she’d fantasized about many, many times, after all. Well, other than the part where there was something pressed between them that definitely wasn’t a banana.

Tori whined a little as Kate leaned away, but that turned into a moan as she pulled off her pajama top and moved straight back in, pressing their bare breasts together. Two pairs of hands roamed over backs and sides, unsure of where they were allowed to touch – or where they _wanted_ to touch. When Kate ended their second heated kiss, she took a deep breath, pushed down her pajama pants, and climbed onto the bed. Lying on her side, she beckoned Tori to join her. Nervously, she complied, and soon their legs tangled together as they kissed again. Tori was acutely aware of exactly where the dildo was pressing against Kate, and she could tell that her partner was getting really worked up.

“Tori… I… will you…” Kate leaned over to pull a bottle of lube from the bag and held it out, a pleading look in her eyes. Tori took it and, after a moment’s hesitation, squeezed some onto the dildo. Seemingly involuntarily, Kate reached out to rub it all over the appendage.

“That feels kinda weird,” Tori commented, unsure about the sensations caused by the base of the dildo rubbing against her.

Kate withdrew her hand. “If you want to stop, I absolutely understand.”

Tori shook her head. “No, I want to do this for you.” Kate smiled, looking a little relieved, then rolled onto her back and spread her legs. Awkwardly, Tori moved between them, looking down at her. “I, uh, I’m not really sure what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay,” Kate said with a smile. She reached down, and guided the tip of the dildo to her entrance. “Slowly,” she suggested. As instructed, Tori moved gently forward until their bodies were flush. Kate’s eyes rolled back and she let out a low moan at the sensation of being filled up. Wrapping an arm around Tori’s neck, she pulled her into another kiss. Hesitantly, Tori began to move, her eyes on Kate’s, questioning. “That feels _really_ good,” Kate said, then moved her hands down to Tori’s hips, guiding her.

With Kate’s encouragement, Tori grew more confident, varying her movements: faster, slower; shallower, deeper. “Like that,” said Kate as they hit the right rhythm. “Yes, just like that.” She slipped one of her hands between them, rubbing her clit. “Don’t stop!” Moments later, she came undone; hips bucking, breath coming in heavy gasps, her entire body quaking. She let out a deep, throaty moan, and went completely rigid for a moment, before lying back limply.

Instinctively, Tori slowed her movements to a stop, leaning down to leave gentle kisses across hers face. “Wow!” breathed Kate at last, “that was… incredible.” Gently she pushed back on Tori’s hips to slowly slide the dildo out, then unfastened the straps and unceremoniously dropped the entire thing on the floor. She lifted the covers, and the two of them crawled underneath and cuddled up together. “Was it okay for you?” Kate asked. “Not too…” she struggled to find the right words.

“A little awkward,” Tori admitted, “where it was rubbing against me… If we decide to do that again, I’d want to see if there was a way to adjust the harness, or get a different one that doesn’t press against… quite such a sensitive area.”

“You’d be willing to do it again?”

“Getting to see you like that? Oh, yeah.”

“You like my O-face?” Kate asked with a cheeky grin.

“You did not just say that!” Tori said, shocked.

Kate simply giggled, then snuggled in closer. After a while, she said, “I love you so much, Tori.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I can’t really define how – and I’m not sure I want to, but… you, Rachel and Erin are all the family I need.”

Tori held her tightly, eyes bright with tears. “I love you too; the three of you are more of a family than I ever dared to hope for.”

They just lay like that, neither wanting to move. Eventually, Kate murmured, “we should really put that away before Rachel comes in and finds it in the morning.”

“S’okay. I’ll let you explain,” Tori replied sleepily.

The only response was Kate’s first snore. Tori wasn’t awake to hear the second.


	7. Never Grow Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max sings to her poorly daughter.
> 
> [F/F, G]

###### Max

I rested my hand on Chloe’s forehead. It felt like it might be a little cooler than last time I checked, but the fever was definitely still there. “How do you feel, honey?” I asked her.

“Achy,” she replied. “Tired. Miserable.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie, why don’t you try and get some sleep?” I suggested, pointedly tapping the book clutched in her hands.

“I tried, Mommy, but I feel too ill.”

“Perhaps I could read it to you for a little while? If you close your eyes, you might be able to get to sleep.”

“I don’t know,” she whined, and pouted at me. “Maybe… you could sing me a song – but not one of those silly lullabies you sing to Emma; a real song, with your guitar.” I smiled a little; I loved how enthusiastic Chloe was about me playing. It was Sam who’d gotten me back into playing again after several years of barely touching it; she so clearly loved me to sing and play for her that I couldn’t help but get over my shyness about it. I was glad that I hadn’t given it up again after we separated.

“Okay, I suppose I can do that,” I told my daughter. As I went to retrieve my guitar from the front room, I racked my brain, trying to think of what I could play. Then, it came to me; not _quite_ a lullaby, but close enough. I perched on the side of Chloe’s bed and strummed a few experimental chords. “Ready?” She nodded and closed her eyes, and I began to play. “ _Your little hand’s wrapped around my finger, and it’s so quiet in the world tonight. Your little eyelids flutter cause you’re dreaming, so I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light._ ”

I was unprepared for the emotions that washed over me as I continued to sing. It was a song that Sam loved, and I’d sung it for them many, many times – but I hadn’t been a parent then. Suddenly it all seemed so real, how one day Chloe would grow up and leave home, and I realized that there were tears in my eyes. And then… I don’t think I would have made it through the final chorus if it wasn’t for a second voice joining mine, singing softly from the doorway behind me. “ _Oh, darlin’, don’t you ever grow up, don’t you ever grow up, just stay this little…_ ”

Thankfully, it seemed that my ‘lullaby’ had done the trick; by the time I was finished, Chloe appeared to be fast asleep. Carefully, I got up from her bed and walked into Dana’s waiting arms. “Hey, what’s the matter?” she asked me quietly.

I let her lead me through to our room before answering. “It’s just… when I was singing that last chorus, I was remembering another little Chloe, and part of me was wishing that I really had never gown up, and was still that little girl with her. I still miss her, Dana, I miss her so much.”

She lay me down on the bed and cuddled into me. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I truly am. I wish I could wave a magic wand and bring her back for you. I know that she was your best friend, your first love, and I wouldn’t… couldn’t…” she was staring to tear up now.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” I wrapped an arm around her and stroked her back. “Whatever you’re thinking, you need to stop it right now. Chloe may have captured my heart for a while, but it belongs to you now; always and forever. Even Chloe coming back from the dead couldn’t change that. Why do you think I still feel guilty about what I had to do to her? It’s because if I hadn’t, then… then I wouldn’t have you, or the girls, and nothing could ever make me give the three of you up.”

Dana wiped her cheeks. “I love you so fucking much, Maxine Ward.”

“I love you too, Dana Ward,” I said, pulling her close.

Someday I want to tell Chloe Ward all about Chloe Price, about the sacrifice she made, and how proud she should be to share her name. I don’t know when the time will come, or how I can explain it to her, but she deserves to know the truth, however strange it may be. As much as I may not want my daughter to grow up, I know that one day she will; my friend never had that chance, and I want to make sure that she is never forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to have developed something of a recurring thing of Max's girlfriends singing Taylor Swift songs, and when I was listening through her back catalogue, I got the inspiration for Max to get her own turn.
> 
> Coming soon: a three-parter covering the weekend of the Blackwell class of '14 reunion.


	8. At the Sign of the Two Whales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion weekend for the Blackwell class of ’14 [1/3]
> 
> [F/F, T]

###### Kate

When we got to the Two Whales, I could see at once that there had been changes in the decade since we’d last been there. The building looked bigger than I remembered, and it had certainly been redecorated – pretty recently, by the looks of things. One of the sets of steps up to the entrance had been replaced by a ramp, something that I was grateful for. I had a pair of folding crutches in the bag on the back of my chair, but it was much easier to roll straight in – and save Tori from some heavy lifting.

Once we got inside, I saw that I’d been right; the diner had been extended past where the jukebox used to sit. There was more space round the corner there, including a couple of longer tables suitable for larger parties like ours. Max and Tori shepherded the girls into a row on the bench along the wall, while Dana moved the chair opposite Erin aside to make room for me. We’d barely got ourselves settled when a waitress came bustling round to hand out menus and take drink orders.

Whatever might have changed at the Two Whales, the food certainly hadn’t; the burgers were every bit as good as I remembered. After finishing mine I excused myself to go to the bathroom. On the way back, I stopped by the counter to ask the waitress, “I don’t suppose by any chance you know Joyce? She used to work here, oh, a decade or so ago.”

“Used to? She still does, honey. She and her husband bought the place a few years ago; she’s out back cooking the books right now.”

“Do you think she could spare a few minutes? She didn’t know me particularly well, but I’m sure she’ll want to say hello to my friend Max.”

“I’ll go check but, knowing Joyce, she’ll be happy at any excuse to get away from paperwork.” She slipped into the back, and when she returned a few moments later, she wasn’t alone.

“Hi, Joyce,” I said warmly, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all; saving me is more like it. Besides, my friend Rose usually stops by for a coffee after work on Fridays.” She squinted at me for a moment. “Kate, isn’t it? Mandy said you’d mentioned that Max was here.”

“That’s right, we’re here with our families for the school reunion. Both our partners are fellow Blackwell alumni.”

Joyce smiled. “Max and Dana still together?”

“I wouldn’t say _still_. They spent the best part of a decade on opposite sides of the country. It was only a few years ago that Tori and I got them back together; now they’re happily married and adopted a couple of kids.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I don’t pretend to know what she went through when Chloe died, but she deserved to find happiness. But… did you mention Victoria?”

I grinned. “Unlikely, I know. We’d reached… an understanding by the end of the school year, and when we both ended up at the same university we became fast friends. She was my roommate, my maid of honor, and the godmother of my daughters.” Suddenly, I was blinking back tears.

“Oh, honey, what happened?”

“A drunk driver. I escaped with a pair of shattered legs; my husband wasn’t so lucky.”

“I’m so sorry.” I could see the empathy in her eyes. I knew she’d been through the same loss I had; neither of us needed words to express it.

“Anyway, after that I was an emotional wreck, had a pair of plaster casts from ankle to thigh, a newborn and a three-year-old to look after. Tori handed her business over to her deputy, and moved onto my couch for the next few months to look after us all. When it became clear that I was never going to fully recover, Tori talked me into making the arrangement permanent; we got a big house together, and we’ve been an unconventional little family ever since. Max calls us ‘queerplatonic life partners’, which is a bit of a mouthful, but…” I shrugged, “what else to you call two people who are just friends, but happen to share a home and a couple of daughters?”

“As long as you’re happy, I’m not sure that it matters.”

“Try telling my mother that,” I muttered, but Joyce was busy greeting a woman who’d just taken the seat next to me.

“…and James has something planned for this evening,” the new arrival was saying, “so I’m afraid I can’t hang around. Can I just get my coffee to go?”

“Sure thing, Rose,” Joyce told her, pulling a paper cup off a stack and filling it from the coffee pot. “Sorry, Kate, I was just about to ask how old your girls are.”

“Erin is four, and Rachel just turned seven.”

Rose turned to look at me. “What a co-incidence; I had a daughter called Rachel, too, but she would have been around your age.”

“Rachel Amber?” I guessed; Rose nodded. “Then it’s not a co-incidence. I never had the privilege of meeting your daughter, but we had… something unfortunate in common.” I could tell from her expression that she understood what I meant. “I hope you don’t mind that I named my own daughter in memory of her.”

“No, not at all.” She looked at me for a few moments. “It’s nice to think that a part of my girl lives on.”

“Would you… like to meet her?”

“Thank-you, but… I’m not sure I could cope with that, and I do have to go.” She had a sudden thought, and delved into her purse, eventually pulling out a small plastic box. “The police found this at the house of… that man, in what they described as a trophy case.” She shuddered. “At first I used to look at it all the time, but the last few years it’s just been rattling around the bottom of my purse. I think perhaps it’s time to let go; would you give it to your daughter once she’s old enough?”

She passed me the box. It contained a blue feather; on looking closer, I realized that it was an earring. Obviously the hook would need to be replaced, but otherwise it was in excellent condition. “I’m sure that Rachel will love it.”

Rose nodded. “I hope so. It was lovely to meet you, Kate. Joyce, I’ll talk to you properly next week.” She picked up her coffee, and hurried out the door.

“I think you just made her year,” said Joyce with a smile, “but no Chloe?”

“I named Erin for her father,” I explained, “and besides, Max might have had a little girl one day. Speaking of which, you should come and meet everyone.” Not giving her a chance to argue, I turned my chair and wheeled back round to our table. “Look who I found,” I called.

Max was the first to look up, and her eyes widened. She practically flew across the room to throw herself into Joyce’s arms. “I missed you!”

“It’s good to see you too, Max Caulfield,” Joyce said with a smile.

“It’s Maxine Ward, now,” she replied, with mock sternness.

“My, my, whatever happened to little miss ‘Max, never Maxine’?”

“She grew up. Anyway, you should meet everyone else; perhaps you remember my wife?”

“Of course; good to see you again, Dana – and you too, Victoria.” Tori shot me a surprised look; I replied with a big wink.

“And the miscreants along the wall are Erin and Rachel Santos, and Chloe and Emma Ward.”

“Pleased to meet you, ladies,” Joyce said with a small curtesy, earning her a few giggles. Then, so softly that I could barely hear even though I was right next to her, “Chloe? Kate said that you adopted…”

Max nodded before whispering her reply. “We fostered them first, but when Chloe walked right up and introduced herself, I knew they were going to be our family.”

“She and Rachel seem very close,” Joyce observed, in a more normal voice.

Max gave her a sad smile. “And they say history never repeats itself – I just hope they don’t get into _quite_ as much trouble as their namesakes.” After a moment, she added, “I still miss her.”

“I know; there isn’t a day goes by I don’t think about my daughter. Even David misses her!”

Max glanced over to where Emma’s eyes were drooping. “Look, I’d love to stay and chat, but it looks like I need to get my youngest to bed…”

“Of course. How long are you in town? What are your plans?”

“We’re flying back on Monday, and we have the reunion tomorrow, but other than that we don’t have anything specific planned.”

“You should come over for Sunday brunch, then – all of you, of course.”

“I’d love to… if that’s okay with everyone else?”

I quickly glanced at Tori, who gave me a shrug. “Of course,” I told Max and Joyce.

“Good. I’m sure you remember the way; come round whenever you’re ready. Now, I need to go finish my paperwork.” She gave Max another quick hug, then headed back to her office.

At the other end of the table, Dana was picking up a sleepy Emma, who closed her eyes and rested her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I’m tired, Mommy,” said Erin as she came over to me, “can I ride with you?”

I smiled, and lifted her up onto my lap. “Of course you can, sweetie.” I fastened the safety strap I’d added to my chair around her. Both the girls loved taking rides with me on “mommy’s pushchair” – or at least, Rachel _did_ until she decided she was too old for it. I wasn’t looking forward to Erin making the same decision.

“Ready to go?” Tori asked.

“Yeah,” I told her, covering a yawn. “The E’s aren’t the only ones who could do with getting to bed.” We headed out, Erin holding her arms out in glee as we rolled down the ramp. It only took a few minutes to reach Arcadia Bay’s sole motel. The place was fully booked for the reunion weekend, so the four of us were sharing a room – Tori had at least managed to get us one with a pair of queen beds.

Once the girls were settled, we took turns using the bathroom to wash up and change. When Tori came to bed, she immediately snuggled into me. I smiled into the darkness, remembering the first time we shared a hotel room, back at the end of our freshman year at Penn. Then, I’d been nervous about sharing a _room_ ; now, I was happy of the excuse to share a _bed_. At least she’d remembered to pack some pajamas this time – although that was probably for the benefit of the girls rather than me. I wouldn’t have minded. I pressed my lips to the top of Tori’s head, wrapped my arms a little more tightly around her, and allowed myself to drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did borrow this chapter's title (and the next two) from a certain well-known and much beloved fantasy epic — although I'm also referencing a less famous but even more beloved (by me, at any rate) YA fantasy that referenced the same chapter title. A gold star if you can identify both!
> 
> Next week's chapter will be either early or late, since I'll be away for the weekend.


	9. A Long-Expected Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion weekend for the Blackwell class of ’14 [2/3]
> 
> [F/F, T]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, gentle readers. My sincere apologies for the unexpected delay in getting this chapter to you, this was due to matters beyond my control: namely, my home Internet line being down for twenty-six miserable days. As recompense, here are two chapters rather than just one!

###### Dana

The first person we ran into when we got to Blackwell was Warren, arm in arm with a heavily pregnant Brooke. “Max Caulfield, as I live and breathe!” he said excitedly. I bristled a little, remembering the over-eager, verging on creepy crush he had on my wife when we were at school; of course, she wasn’t my wife back then. Thankfully, he’d backed off as soon as it was obvious that the two of us were together, and he and Brooke had gotten together not long after.

“It’s Maxine Ward, now,” said Max with a grin, before giving him a quick hug.

“You gave up your _name_ when you got married?” Brooke asked, rather disapprovingly. _Judgmental as always_ , I thought; and it’s not like she gave up her name for a _man_.

Max shook her head. “No, I did it so we could both share a name with our girls.”

Brooke’s expression softened. “I suppose I can understand that.” Max introduced Emma and Chloe, but then got dragged off by the latter, once she spotted the play area that had been set up.

We talked a little about what we’d been doing since we last saw each other. Brooke and Warren, it turned out, had gone to MIT together, and now worked at the same government lab. Brooke did most of the talking, and I got the distinct impression that she wore the pants in their relationship. “How far along are you?” I asked her.

“Thirty-three weeks, and really feeling it; I can’t wait for this little guy to get himself born. Any tips? Sorry, I don’t know whether you or Max did the heavy lifting.”

I shook my head. “Neither of us particularly wanted to, so we chose to adopt. It turned out better than we hoped; I can’t imagine loving Chloe and Emma any more if they were my own flesh and blood. Plus, it ended up with them being the same ages as Kate’s two girls.”

“Oh, I remember that you two were pretty tight with her our last year here,” said Warren. “So you kept in touch?”

“Yeah, we ended up not that far from each other, so we stayed pretty close; she was Max’s Matron of Honor at our wedding.”

“Do you know if she’s going to be here?”

“She is; we’re all staying at the same motel. Apparently Rachel was throwing a strop about her outfit, so we came on ahead. I’m sure Kate, Vic and the girls will be here soon.”

“Vic…toria?” Brooke asked in disbelief. I nodded. “Chase?” I nodded again; the expressions on her and Warren’s faces were, frankly, comical. There was a flash of light, followed by the distinctive whirring of Max’s camera spitting out a photo.

I explained about how Kate and Vic ended up friends, and then the accident. “After that, Vic moved in to look after her and the girls… and never moved out. Now they’re this adorable little family unit.”

“I guess Victoria’s changed, then,” said Warren at last.

“She changed while we were still at Blackwell,” Max said, to my surprise, “but Kate was the only one to really notice.”

Brooke nodded slowly. “Most of us were too busy ostracizing her to assuage our own guilt.” Her expression changed. “Sorry, I have a sudden need to pee; we should talk more later, though. Sweetie, could you find me something to drink?” Warren nodded, and they both hurried off.

“Chloe?” I asked Max.

“Alyssa’s keeping an eye on her. She has the cutest little boy, and I promised to switch places with her later.”

“Dana?” came a voice from behind me; I turned.

“Jules?” Beside me, I felt Max stiffen, then Juliet pulled me into as much of a hug as she could manage with a sleeping Emma sat on my hip.

“It’s _awesome_ to see you again! Look at you, all momma bear!” She turned her had slightly, “You okay, Max?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s not you. It’s just… my ex left me for a reporter called Jules.”

“Ouch! I’m sorry to hear that. I guess that mean’s you two haven’t been together since high school like Brooke and Warren, then?”

“No,” I told her. “We spent the summer together after graduation, but then… it wasn’t until a few years ago that we got back together.” I elaborated and, again, we ended up exchanging life stories of more than decade since we last saw each other. Juliet had indeed gone into journalism, and for the past few years had been working as a foreign correspondent.

“That’s why I’m here stag,” she explained, “I never stay in one place long enough to go looking for a serious relationship.” She shrugged. “Suits me just fine, it’s not like I have any trouble finding guys who are just looking for some fun for a few weeks. Someday, maybe I’ll want to settle down and have a family,” she eyed Emma uncertainly, “but I haven’t felt that urge yet.” Quickly changing the subject, she continued, “so, Nathan is still in jail, obviously, but do you think Victoria will dare to show her face?”

“Definitely.” Over her shoulder, I saw Vic, Kate and the girls arriving. “In fact, here she is now.” Beside me, I could see Max readying her camera. A moment later, she captured the dumbstruck expression on Juliet’s face.

* * *

###### Victoria

The first people we saw when we arrived at the school were Max, Dana, and Juliet. The bright flash of a Polaroid camera went off as we approached; I couldn’t blame Max, the look on Juliet’s face was priceless. That did lead to an explanation of how Kate and I ended up together, something that I had a feeling would be a feature of the afternoon. By the time we were done, Erin had fallen asleep in her stroller, and Rachel was getting restless – Kate decided to take her over to the play area, where she could hang out with Chloe. Assuming that toddlers do actually ‘hang out’.

I looked around, and saw Taylor and Courtney deep in conversation, each with a handsome – if bored-looking – man hanging off one arm. I decided to talk to them sooner rather than later, and headed over. Taylor spotted me at once. “Vic! So good to see you again.” She air-kissed me on both cheeks; Courtney hurried to do the same, then looked down at Erin.

“I didn’t take you for motherhood; you’ve really managed to keep your figure, though.”

Yup, the same old tactless Courtney. I forced a laugh, “I think we both know I’m a few pounds heavier than last time we saw each other – and much happier for it. Actually, I’m only a mother by adoption, although I must say that even after two pregnancies, my partner _has_ kept her figure.” Sure, the evidence _is_ there on her body, but in my eye it just makes Kate even more beautiful.

“So… you’re gay now?” Courtney inched back a little.

“Actually, I’m a biromantic asexual.”

Taylor, bless her, looked at me with curiosity rather than judgment. “Honestly, I’m not sure what that means.”

“It means that I like both men and women romantically, but I have zero interest in sex with _anyone_.”

“But… you still have a partner?”

“Yes. She’s my best friend. We share a home, and two wonderful daughters… but not a bed.” _Well, most of the time, at any rate._

Taylor nodded slowly. “How did that come about?”

“Well,” said Kate, rolling to a stop next to me, “after I lost my husband in a car accident, Tori took a leave of absence from her job and moved onto our couch for six months to take care of me and the girls. After that, it turned out that we’d all gotten used to being a little family, so we moved into a bigger place together, and eventually I asked her to adopt Rachel and Erin.”

Taylor and Courtney were looking at us, slack-jawed, and I heard the tell-tale sound of Max capturing the moment. “You… and _Kate?_ ” Courtney managed at last.

“Yes,” I told her firmly. “We’d pretty much buried the hatchet by the end of our senior year here, so when we both ended up at Penn, it was almost inevitable that we’d become friends.”

“Besides,” added Kate with a grin, “sharing an apartment with Tori for three years meant that I got to live somewhere _way_ nicer than I could have afforded on my own.”

“But… surely you want to re-marry someday? Have a _man_ in your life?” asked Courtney’s husband.

Kate put a hand on her chest and adopted the overly-earnest expression which I know means she’s about to lie outrageously. “But I can’t do that: even though my husband has passed away, in the eyes of God we’re still married; it would be a mortal sin if I were to become involved with another man. No, this arrangement with Tori was the only way to support my children and ensure that they have stability of two loving parents.”

“Oh,” he says, taken aback, “well… I admire your faith.”

“Thank-you.” Kate turned to me. “Anyway, Tori, I just popped over to let you know that I’ve volunteered you to take over child-minding duties in half an hour or so. I hope that’s okay?”

“Of course, I’d be happy to.”

It took me most of that half hour to extricate myself from conversation with Taylor and Courtney; Kate made her escape after Erin woke up and demanded a ride on her wheelchair. When I got over to the play area, I found Max already there. “I see you’re my partner in crime for this shift,” she said. “I’m glad to see you made it out of the clutches of your former minions.”

“Just barely,” I told her with a laugh.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Blackwell’s top two photographers from the class of ’14,” came a voice from my right. “Ms Caulfield, Ms Chase, good to see you again.”

“You too, Principal Wells,” said Max with a smile.

“So, are any of these future Blackwell students yours?”

“I’m not sure about Blackwell, seeing as we both live on the East Coast, but that’s Rachel Santos,” I said, pointing.

“And that’s Chloe Ward,” added Max.

“Rachel and Chloe…” mused Wells. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I sincerely hope that if you do decide to send those two here, it’s not until after I retire.” We all laughed.

“After hearing about their namesakes’ exploits, I can’t say that I blame you,” said Max with a grin.

“So… Chloe Ward; would that perchance be for Dana?”

“Yes,” said Max with a smile. “We may have spent eight years apart, but I did eventually marry my high school sweetheart – although I didn’t take her name until we adopted our girls.”

“Does that make you Mrs Santos, then?” Wells asked me.

I shook my head. “No, that name comes from Kate’s late husband.” Beside me, I could see Max readying her camera.

“Kate Marsh?” He looked only mildly surprised as I nodded, but Max took her photo regardless. “I’m observant enough that I noticed you two had put your differences behind you by the end of your senior year here, but I wouldn’t have expected a friendship that lasted beyond that.” I gave Wells the highlights of our post-Blackwell story, and he nodded before asking Max, “so, about that snapshot…”

She grinned. “It’s for my forthcoming exhibition, ‘People Reacting to Finding Out that Kate and Victoria are a Couple.’ I have to say that you were very restrained.”

“I’ve been a high school principal for almost twenty years,” Wells told her with a small smile. “There’s very little that surprises me.”


	10. A Short Cut to Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion weekend for the Blackwell class of ’14 [3/3]
> 
> [F/F, T]

###### Max

It was strange to be going back to the Price house – the Madsen house now, I supposed – after so many years. I hadn’t been there since Chloe’s wake; I simply couldn’t face it, choosing to see Joyce only at the Two Whales. The place didn’t look much different, other than the paint being a slightly different shade from what I remembered. Well, that and the absence of Chloe’s beaten up old truck.

I almost didn’t recognize David when he opened the front door. It wasn’t so much the dozen years’ worth of age lines, or the fact that his mustache was gone, as his attitude: relaxed; happy, even. He broke into a huge smile when he saw me. “Max! Great to have you here again.” He nodded to the others, and then to the children. “Ladies. Young ladies. Come on in, Joyce is busy in the kitchen.”

I went straight through and gave her a hug. “It’s _so_ good to see you again,” I told her. “Now, how can I help out? And what’s this about you owning the Two Whales?” Joyce smiled, and put me to work preparing the vast amount of food she deemed necessary to provide brunch for the ten of us. She explained how, when the previous owners decided to retire, she and David had cashed in their savings and taken out a loan to buy the diner.

“It’s been a lot of hard work,” she told me, “and entirely too much of my time is spent in the office, but I’m glad we did it. It gives us a nice income, and the loans are almost paid off now. Most importantly, we saved the place from being bought out by some soulless chain.”

I shuddered. “That would have been very sad. Arcadia Bay simply wouldn’t be the same without the Two Whales.”

Joyce nodded. “I just hope that when it’s my turn to retire, I can find someone who feels the same way to sell it on to. I do miss spending more time with the customers, though; all that human interaction was a big part of why I enjoyed working there. Still, I’m not getting any younger, and I’m sure my body’s happy that I’m not spending all day on my feet. So, what are you up to these days?”

I gave her the highlights of my life since moving to New York; finding my feet as a photographer with the varied work I do, getting back together with Dana, our wedding, and adopting the girls. “I’m really happy, Joyce,” I told her. For some reason, it was overwhelmingly important to me that she understand that.

She smiled. “I’m very glad to hear it, Max. So, was it Dana who drew you to New York in the first place?” I shook my head, and explained about Sam; our move, and our break-up. Joyce was sympathetic. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she told me. She briefly rested a hand on my arm, then hurriedly brushed away he floury imprint she’d left behind.

I managed a smile. “I won’t deny that it hurt at the time, but now that I have some distance, I don’t bear them any ill will. It’s not something they went looking for, but once they found it, having them stay with me out of some misguided notion of loyalty would have been worse than the alternative. Besides, it all turned out for the best in the end – and it’s not like I haven’t been through worse heartbreak.” Joyce gave me a curious look, and I told her about Polly.

“Oh, Max, you should have known better than to stay with the likes of her,” she said, but the sympathy in my eyes overwhelmed me.

“I know, and I still feel guilty for how harsh I was toward my friends, when all they were doing was trying to help me. If I’d listened to them sooner, I could have saved myself a lot of heartache.”

“Don’t you be too hard on yourself; I’m sure they understood. Most all of us have gone fair foolish over someone at least once in our lives. I had the biggest crush all Sean Prescott, of all people, back when we were both teenagers. He used to enjoy pretending to be interested in me, but never letting anything come of it. Then, at the start of my junior year at high school, William’s family moved to town; I took one look at him, and never had a pleasant though about Sean ever again. Now, why don’t you get the rest of the food out of the oven, then tell the hungry hordes to start coming through.”

It wasn’t until after we’d all eaten, and the girls were running about in the garden, that I found myself talking to David. Perhaps more than anyone else, my memories of him are at odds with the reality of _this_ timeline; I had to remind myself that we never really met before Chloe’s death. “What happened to the ’tache?” I asked, by way of an opener.

“It was part of the old me, a constant remainder of who I used to be.” He hesitated, before continuing, “the military man who treated Chloe like she was a soldier under my command.” His eyes dropped to the ground for a moment, before meeting mine again. “For a long time, I blamed myself for what happened to her, and I still feel that I let her down. If I’d behaved more like a father and less like a drill sergeant, perhaps things would have turned out differently.” I could see that it still gnawed at him, just like it gnaws at me.

“Don’t blame yourself, David; Chloe always was a strong-willed girl, and she wasn’t ready to see you as anything other than the man who replaced her beloved father. I don’t think that she would have heard what you had to say, no matter how you delivered the message.” I sighed. “I’ve just as much claim on responsibility for what happened, after abandoning her so completely. I may not have had any choice about leaving, but the blame for not staying in touch when she needed me so badly is all at my feet.”

“Now, now, you were too young to hold yourself responsible for that…”

“And I’m sure you had good reasons too,” I said firmly.

“I had… have PTSD,” he admitted at length, “and I was too proud, too… ashamed to get the proper help. Chloe’s death forced me to see things differently, and I finally agreed to see a therapist.”

“It helped, didn’t it? Talking about it? I know it did for me.”

He looked slightly confused for a moment, before realizing what I must be talking about. “Yes; yes it did.”

“Good, I’m glad; for you, and for Joyce.”

We were interrupted by Emma running over to grab me. “Mommy! Come play!” she demanded. I smiled, exchanged a silent nod with David, and allowed myself to be led away.

It was some time later that I noticed Chloe was no longer outside. I headed back into the house, and found her sitting with Joyce; they were looking through an old photo album. I perched on the arm of the couch next to her and looked down at the pictures; they showed Chloe and me playing on the beach, we looked maybe eight or nine. One of them had me buried up to my neck, while a triumphant Chloe sat next to me, smirking and brandishing a spade.

“I see you’re digging out the embarrassing photos to show my daughter,” I said to Joyce with a smile.

“Well, I no longer have my own daughter to embarrass, and you’re the next best thing.” There was a hint of sorrow on her face, but only a hint. I was glad to see that Chloe’s death no longer weighed so heavily on her.

“Seems only fair,” I agreed, and stayed with them while they looked through the rest of the pictures; some with both of us, but many just Chloe. My daughter seemed fascinated to learn more about her namesake, and asked Joyce endless questions.

Later, as we were preparing to leave, Joyce drew me aside. “Thankyou so much for coming, Max, it means a lot to see you again after all these years, and I’m so glad to have met your girls. Chloe reminds me so much of my daughter at her age, and it makes me feel like… well, like a part of her still lives on.”

“I often feel that way too,” I said, and pulled her into a hug. “It’s been wonderful to see you again.”

Once we parted, Joyce pulled something out of her pocket. “Here, I want you to take this, and give it to Chloe when she’s older; a little memento of her namesake.” She handed me a necklace threaded with three bullets, the same one I remember Chloe wearing during the week of hell.

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled,” I told her, stowing it safely in my camera bag.

We both smiled. “Don’t be a stranger, you hear?” Joyce said as she walked me to the front door.

“No, Ma’am,” I replied, and it’s a promise I hope to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may not have had the internet, but neither have I been idle. I have a couple more _Missing Pieces_ drafted, and another couple plotted. I've also got more than eight thousand words of _Pieced Together_ \- a new story, with a new pair of narrators...


	11. What is Love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Kate to finally figure out what she truly feels for Victoria.
> 
> [F/F, T]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still catching up from my unexpected month offline, so here's a double dose of Chasemarsh fluff.

###### Kate

I’m lying in bed, safely cocooned in Tori’s embrace, my system flooded with endorphins. I may be the one who had an orgasm a few minutes ago, but it was Tori who fell quickly asleep afterwards. My mind, on the other hand, is wide awake, still trying to come to terms with what happened earlier.

When we first embarked on our… sex life, and especially after I asked Tori to start using the strap-on with me, it was about somehow trying to replace what I had with Aaron. I would close my eyes and think of him, trying to imagine that it was his penis filling me up, rather than some creation of rubber and plastic. Mostly it worked, and there were times that I could barely restrain myself from crying out his name. Barely, but I did. I know that Tori would have been understanding if I had, but I also know that it would have hurt her deeply. Plus, I’d probably have been too embarrassed to look her in the eye for days.

Over time, that changed; I imagined my late husband less and less, allowing myself to move on with my life. Eventually, I began to keep my eyes open when we made love – and that’s what it is, even if neither of us acknowledges it, even if we pretend it’s nothing more than Tori helping to keep my libido in check. I found myself wanting to cry out _her_ name when my release came, but I didn’t; somehow I knew that would be crossing some invisible line. Tonight, I finally lost control.

Tori, bless her, didn’t say anything about it; after we were done with post-coital kisses, she simply unbuckled the harness, cleaned off the dildo, and put it away, then pulled me into her arms and went straight to sleep. Am I overreacting? Was it not a big deal for her, or does she need time to process – or is she giving me the space _I_ need to process it?

Something has changed within me, I’m no longer the same person I once was: secure in my straightness and, while liberal enough to accept higher Kinsey numbers in others, certain that they would never apply to me. Now, I’m not so sure; the problem is, I’m still exclusively attracted to men – and yes, guys do catch my eye from time to time – with one singular exception. So what does that make me? Bi-curious? Heteroflexible? Tori-sexual?

Make no mistake, that attraction does have a sexual component now. I’ve allowed myself, in the quiet of my bedroom, to wonder what might happen between us if Tori wasn’t ace. I’m not sure that I would actually be comfortable with those things leaving the realm of fantasy, but it’s no co-incidence that happened around the same time I began to experiment with self-loving without her reassuring presence.

I can no longer deny it: I love Tori; body, mind, and soul. The same way I loved Aaron. It should feel like a betrayal of his memory, but strangely it doesn’t. He would have wanted me to be happy, and he saw how Tori feels about me; perhaps he saw the seeds of this, too. The question is, what should I do now? Should I tell Tori? _What_ do I tell her?

If I tell her the whole truth, then I worry she’s going to start thinking that I want more from her physically when, in all honesty, I need nothing more than she’s comfortable giving me. Whilst I might secretly desire the things I’ve read about in my hidden stash of lesbian romance novels, I would never – _could_ never – want that to come at the expense of _any_ discomfort to Tori.

On the other hand, if I say nothing, then I’m missing the chance to alleviate some of the insecurity I know Tori is feeling about the long-term status of our relationship. I’m well aware of her concerns that some day I’ll want to replace Aaron in my life. Well, it turns out that she needn’t worry; I already have – and I want what I have with Tori to last for decades, not the mere years I got with Aaron.

* * *

###### Victoria

I’m brought out of sleep by Kate gently shaking me. I look around blearily, but it’s still dark, so I can’t see a thing. “What time is it?” I mumble.

“Uh… I’m not sure. Still the middle of the night,” she says, her voice a little unsteady.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I… there’s something I need to tell you.”

“And it couldn’t wait until morning?” I respond, a little grumpily.

“No, I couldn’t wait one more minute.” There’s something in her voice that makes me sit up and take notice.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“I love you.” There’s a sudden certainty in her voice that takes my breath away. “I know I’ve said that before, but now I know that I mean it. No reservations, no limitations, no expiry date. I. Love. You.”

There are tears in my eyes as I reach out into the darkness. My hands find Kate and pull her into my arms, holding her tightly. “I love you too,” I whisper into her ear, feeling the last of my fears and doubts melting away. “You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that.”

“I think that maybe I do,” she whispers back, almost crushing me in her embrace. There are a thousand questions racing through my brain about what this means for me, for Kate, for us. I don’t ask them, though, because I realize that that the answers don’t matter; we’ll figure it all out. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title song can be found [on YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuQQOInbF88). And no, I'm not Rick-rolling you, I just got to see PMJ live for the second time recently; both times they included that song in their set, and both times it was even more chaotic than the video...


	12. Who Cares?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of role reversal helps Victoria to remember that relationships need to be a two-way street.
> 
> [F/F, T]

###### Victoria

It starts as a dull ache at the back of my jaw, just after lunch on a Thursday afternoon. At first, I simply ignore it; pushing through because I have an advanced skills class to teach. By the time I’m done with that, the pain is worse, so I pop a couple of aspirin before my meeting with Qadira. The pills don’t seem to help much, so I’m less focused than usual, and twice she asks if I’m okay. We normally hang out for a bit and chat after these meetings, but today I excuse myself as soon as we’re done with business. I flee down to the parking garage and drive home, having to force myself to concentrate on the roads.

Erin pounces on me the moment I step through the front door, wanting to show me what she did at school in her art class, and I’m happy for the distraction. She quickly ropes me in to draw some pictures with her, just like we did when she was a toddler, except that now she’s at least as good as me; there are good reasons that I make my art with a camera. I try to suggest that Kate would make a better sketch buddy, but Erin shakes her head. “No, mama, I don’t need Mommy when I have you.”

Every time one of them does something like that, shows that I’m just as much their parent as Kate is, it gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling my chest. I also love that Erin still calls me ma-ma – unlike her big sister, who now pronounces it muh-mah, with as much disdain as she can muster. Heaven help us next year, when she actually reaches her teens. No doubt she went straight to her room the minute she got home, and we’ll only be able to lure her out with the promise of food.

When Erin finally runs off to her own room, and the buzz of spending time with my daughter has worn off, the pain returns in full force. I shake my head, and go looking for Kate, finding her in the kitchen. “Dinner shouldn’t be much longer,” she tells me brightly, then frowns a little. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”

It takes me a moment to realize that I’m absent-mindedly rubbing my cheek. “Oh, just a bit of toothache,” I tell her, playing it down. She gives me a skeptical look, one that says she’ll let it go – but only for now. “Anything I can help with?” I ask, if only to change the subject.

“Sure, could you set the table?” Once I’ve done that, it’s time for me to drag the kids out of their rooms; a family meal every evening – or lunch on Sundays – is a fixture at our house. Honestly, I love it, the four of us sitting around the table, talking about our days. I wish I’d had this when I was growing up, but about the only time I ate with my parents was at the formal events where they’d decided my presence was required. Today, though, the shine is taken off it a little by the fact that I’m having to carefully chew with only the left side of my mouth, having quickly discovered the sharp pain that resulted from trying to use my sore tooth.

Later, Kate and I are sitting together on the couch, catching up on the last couple of episodes of _Grey’s Anatomy_ – now in it’s twenty-seventh season – but the pain just keeps getting worse. I’m vaguely aware that I’m making some pathetic whimpering noises, and eventually it seems that Kate’s had enough. She sighs, and pushes herself up, grabbing her crutches. When I start to move, she holds up a hand. “You stay there,” she tells me in her no-nonsense ‘serious Mom’ voice. I stay.

A couple of minutes later, she returns, carefully carrying a glass of water. She hands it to me, along with a few pills. “Ibuprofen and acetaminophen; I’m not sure how much they’ll do for nerve pain, but they’re all I can give you.” Kate _does_ have stronger meds for when the pain in her legs flares up, but she takes the warnings about not sharing prescription drugs seriously, and I respect that. Meekly, I swallow the pills Kate gave me, and chase them down with some water. “I’ll call the dentist first thing in the morning and get you an appointment.” Her voice brooks no argument.

“Okay, and… thanks, Katie.” Her cheeks dimple as she smiles in response. I rest my head on her shoulder for a while, but the way I’m holding my jaw to avoid pressing on the sore tooth means it isn’t very comfortable. Once we’ve watched the rest of our show, Kate shoos me off to bed. A few minutes later, though, she comes into my room in a pair of her cute flannel pajamas and cuddles up against me. It helps, at least a little; I always feel better when Kate is in my arms.

I don’t get much sleep. While the pain from my tooth doesn’t get much worse, it seems to have triggered a splitting headache, plus the muscles around my jaw are aching from holding it in an awkward position for too long. I can’t seem to get comfortable, no matter what position my head is in. My fidgeting wakes Kate up a few times, but she just grumbles sleepily at me and snuggles in again. I finally get to sleep some time after six, mostly through sheer exhaustion.

I wake up at around ten, and lie there for a few minutes, trying to decide whether the pain is better or worse than yesterday. Eventually, I drag myself out of bed and go in search of my partner, finding Kate in her studio. “Hey,” is about all I can manage.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says brightly, turning round to look at me. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty rotten,” I admit.

“Look, I’m really sorry, I didn’t have a chance to call the dentist until after I got the kids off to school, and by then they didn’t have any appointments left for today. I’ve got you one for tomorrow morning, though.”

“Don’t worry about it, Katie; I really appreciate that you made the effort.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

I consider it for a moment. “Not that I can think of. I’m going to head back to bed and curl up with a book, try to take my mind off it.”

“Okay, well, if you do need something, just call.”

I bend down to give her a brief kiss. “Will do.”

Kate comes to find me a couple of hours later, carefully carrying a mug of soup. “Sorry it’s not elegantly served in a bowl,” she quips, “but it’s all I can do to manage a mug on crutches.”

“No, this is great,” I tell her, forcing a smile. She isn’t fooled.

“The pills aren’t really helping much, are they?” I shake my head. “Okay, then I’m going to roll down to the drugstore, see if the pharmacist can recommend something.”

“You really don’t need to…” I begin, before quickly clamming up at a look from Kate.

“I’m perfectly capable of doing this,” she says. There’s a hint of snappishness in her voice, but it quickly softens. “Let _me_ look after _you_ for a change.”

I realize that’s the crux of it. Even all these years after the accident, there’s still a part of me in the mindset I had those first few months. Look after Kate, take care of her needs, make sure she doesn’t have to do anything that I could do for her. Once she started to get her mobility back, I quickly learned to ease up, that doing everything for her was neither helpful nor desirable. I hate that walking, even with her crutches, still causes Kate pain, but it’s not my place to tell her when that is or isn’t a worthwhile trade-off. And since she got Serenity, the only things stopping Kate from going wherever she wants are accessibility issues – and wheeling herself at top speed, she can get places a damn sight faster than I can walk.

For all that I now try very hard not to do anything for Kate that she can – and wants to – do for herself, I’ve tried equally hard to make sure that she never needs to do anything for me. I begin to wonder if, perhaps, I haven’t been doing her any favors there, either. I know how good it makes me feel to look after Kate, and I’ve been denying her the chance to feel the same way. That isn’t fair, especially now that I know she loves me in the same way that I love her. Carefully, I set my mug of soup down on the bedside cabinet, and pull Kate into my arms.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“For what?”

“For not letting you take care of me.” Her answer to that is a kiss. A long, slow, sensuous kiss. It puts some painful pressure on my sore tooth but, frankly, I don’t give a shit when this feels so good.

“I’m glad you understand,” she says as we finally separate. Then, seeing me rub my jaw again, “sorry…”

“Don’t be. That kiss was _totally_ worth it.” If there’s a little smugness in Kate’s grin after that, then it’s well-earned.

“So, does that mean you’ll stay here like a good girl, while I go out?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

In little more than half an hour, she’s back with a small bottle of clove oil and a tube of numbing gel. I apply both, and find that they do help, bringing the pain down to a tolerable level. I unashamedly exaggerate their efficaciousness to Kate, earning me a dazzling smile. Her happiness helps me through the rest of the day, which I spend almost entirely in bed. She brings me a bowl of soft, creamy risotto for dinner, which I barely need to chew. When Kate comes to bed a little after midnight, this time I’m not long behind her in falling asleep.

Kate wakes me at half nine to remind me that I have my dentist’s appointment in an hour, and that she’s already booked me an Uber – which is good, since there’s no way I’m up to driving. I stumble into the shower, and the stream of scalding hot water onto my head does actually make the pain recede a little. By the time I’m dressed, and dosed with a double espresso, I feel surprisingly human. Not quite human enough that I feel up to eating anything, though.

The dentist is a colossal let-down. She does an examination, and can’t see anything obviously wrong. An X-ray shows my wisdom tooth doing something funky, but she’s not sure _that’s_ the problem, although there’s a bit of a shadow under it that _might_ be an infection. The alternative is that the molar that’s causing me pain is cracked, but that’s something that can only be seen under a microscope. I may have a big mouth, but no way is it big enough to fit one of those in. Eventually, I leave with a prescription for some antibiotics, a slightly stronger analgesic, and the vague hope that one of them will help.

Neither does, at least not immediately. I spend the afternoon curled up on my bed, in more pain than yesterday, trying not to cry – and failing. When Kate comes in to check on me, I try to hide my face, but I fail at that too. I’m not sure how many times she’s seen my cry in all the years since she left me sobbing on a classroom floor at Blackwell, but it’s not many; the last time was probably Aaron’s funeral. She sits on the edge of the bed, and strokes my side. “Is there anything I can get you, sweetie?”

I bite back a sarcastic response about wanting a new head. “I don’t think so, but… thanks for looking after me.”

“Hey, what are girlfriends for?” she says, with a smile, and my heart practically bursts. Even after Kate admitted to having romantic feelings for me, we continued to use the word ‘partner’, to avoid advertising a relationship change that felt very private. In any case, after Ruth’s coming out to their parents, Kate didn’t want to risk following suit; not wanting to risk Rachel and Erin’s relationship with their grandparents.

“Girlfriends?” I repeat, tentatively.

Kate flushes. “Sorry, that was a… Freudian slip – not that it isn’t how I think of you, I just… don’t want to get in the habit of saying it out loud.”

“I understand. I don’t care what labels we use, I only care how we feel about each other. I’m more than happy for the details of our relationship to remain private.”

“Thank-you, and… thanks for letting me take care of you. It feels good to pay back some small measure of what you did for me after the accident.”

“You don’t need to…” I begin.

“I know, just like you don’t need to still feel guilty about what happened at Blackwell.”

I sigh. “I know that you forgive me for that, truly I do, I’ve just never quite been able to completely forgive myself. I’ve made my peace with that, and it’s not what drives me, not any more. I love you, and that makes me want to do everything I can to look after you; it’s just taken me until now to realize that if I don’t let you look after me too, I’m being incredibly selfish. We’re a team, we should look after each other.”

“And the girls.”

“Of course; Rachel and Erin come first, always. I hope you don’t mind being second best.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Mom!” comes a shout from somewhere else in the house. Erin, I believe.

“Duty calls,” Kate tells me, leaning over to kiss me, “and I love you too.” Somehow, talking to Kate seems to have eased the pain a little, so once she’s gone, I grab my iPad off the bedside cabinet and look for further distractions.

On Sunday, the pain is a little better, and by Wednesday it’s pretty much gone. I make a point of going out to shop, so that I can prepare a special dinner for my family. Later, once the girls are in bed, I start the water running in the oversized tub that sits in the bathroom I share with Kate, and set some candles around it. Then, hesitantly, I ask Kate if she’d like to share it. Shyly, she nods. I help her to climb in and lower herself down, then slide in behind her. The warm water, Kate in my arms, her bare skin against mine… it feels heavenly.

“Thank-you for tonight,” she says after a little while, “it’s nice to have a little romance in my life.”

“Perhaps we should try and create a little more of that, even if it’s just in the privacy of our home.”

“I’d like that,” Kate says, after a moment’s thought. “I’m sorry that we have to keep it here. It’s not that I’m ashamed or anything, it’s just…”

“I know, sweetie. I’m perfectly happy to keep this side of you all to myself.” Seemingly reassured by my words, Kate snuggles back against me. Biting my lip, I move one of my arms from where they’re resting loosely around her waist, trailing my hand up her body and finding the side of her breast.

“Why, Miss Chase, what _do_ you think you’re doing?” asks Kate with mock severity, but the way her body arches up against my hand as I brush my thumb over her nipple tells me that she’s perfectly okay with it.

“I do believe that it is what’s commonly referred to as ‘foreplay’.”

Kate turns to look at me. “Really? _You’re_ initiating sex?”

“More… I’m letting you know that if, when we get out of this bath, you feel like dragging me to bed and having me make love to you, I’d be okay with that.” In response, Kate kisses me, passionately. For a moment, I worry that I’ve overplayed my hand; I was rather looking forward to enjoying a good long soak.

“That does sound rather appealing… but there’s no rush.” To my relief, she turns and lies back against my chest.

I smile, happy to continue soaking up the kind of physical intimacy that _I_ crave. “No rush at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm busy with family next weekend, so apologies if I don't get the chance to post anything.


	13. Never Grow Up (Reprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max has to learn to give her daughter a little more independence.
> 
> [Gen, T]

###### Max

“You really don’t need to take me there,” Chloe repeated, as we left the apartment. “I’m fourteen, that’s _more_ than old enough to get to the movies by myself.”

“Or to get mugged by yourself,” I retorted. _Or abducted, or raped, or murdered,_ I added silently. Nathan and Jefferson might be behind bars, but there were plenty of other monsters out there. I knew that I’d have to let go eventually, but I wasn’t quite ready yet.

“I’ve been doing those self-defense classes with Ma,” she pointed out. It turned out that her experience as a dancer had made Dana a bit of a natural at picking up martial arts. She’d started doing it a couple of years previously, just for fun, but had quickly begun to take it seriously. I’d gone with her exactly twice, and horribly embarrassed myself as an uncoordinated mess both times. Chloe, on the other hand, had been going regularly since her thirteenth birthday.

“I know, Chloe, but I’m not sure how scary ‘I know Kung Fu’ is, when it comes from a teenage girl.” Okay, so the Japanese genes from her grandmother might make her look a _little_ bit more like the cliché of a budding martial artist, but still…

“We do Karate and Krav Maga, not Kung Fu,” Chloe said, petulantly. I sighed; of course my reference to _The Matrix_ had gone straight over her head.

“I know, but I’m your Mom, and it’s my job to worry about you anyway.”

“Fine,” she said, dramatically, “but can you at least let me go around the last corner by myself, so I’m not, like, totally embarrassed in front of my friends?”

Clever girl, learning the fine art of compromise. “But… surely you know that every parent’s greatest joy in life is embarrassing their children!” I gave her an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose that I could forgo it this one time.”

Chloe relaxed a little. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Hey, I was a teenager once, you know.” Not one who really cared about that shit, though; I always had enough negative cool points that a few more weren’t going to make any difference, and the kids I hung out with weren’t going to tease me about something their own parents did. That didn’t mean that I couldn’t understand that the need to _look_ independent was even more important to my daughter that her desire to actually _be_ independent.

It was only once we were sat on the subway that I discovered our first little negotiation had just been an opening salvo. “So, about Rachel’s birthday…”

I sighed. “Chloe, we’ve already been over this.” Also I _really_ don’t like rehashing my fuck-ups. I’d stupidly committed to photographing a wedding that weekend – a full package, including the rehearsal dinner – without checking my diary closely enough. To make matters worse, it turned out that Dana’s dance show was having a couple of special performances on the Friday and Saturday nights that she simply couldn’t get out of.

“I know, but… you didn’t see her face when I told her I wouldn’t be there. She looked so _hurt_ , and after that she couldn’t get off Skype fast enough. We’ve _never_ missed each other’s birthdays before.” Does she think I don’t know that? And none of us are oblivious to how close Chloe and Rachel have gotten over the last few years; they’re more like sisters than cousins.

“I’m _really_ sorry, Chloe, but neither your Ma nor I can get out of the city that weekend. I know we messed up, but…” I gestured helplessly, “it’s too late for us to do anything about it now.”

“I understand that, honestly I do.” Not what she’d said earlier in the week, when she screamed at us, before running to her room and slamming the door so hard that I thought it would fall off its hinges. “There are other options, though.”

“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously.

“I could take the Amtrak down to Philadelphia by myself.” She held up a hand to forestall my immediate objections. “Ma isn’t busy on the Friday morning, so she can take me to the station; she can physically put me on the train if that’ll make you feel better. Aunt Victoria can meet me on the platform at the other end, and it’s not like we haven’t done that trip a million times, so I know exactly when I have to get off.” She looked at me imploringly. “I can do this.”

“I suppose you and Rachel concocted this plan together.”

“No, she doesn’t even know about it.” Chloe cast her eyes down. “I didn’t want to get her hopes up in case you said no.”

My heart melted a little. “Well, I promise we’ll think about it, then; I’ll have to talk to Dana and your aunts as well.” After a moment’s thought, I added, “Kudos for not pulling a ‘but I already told Rachel…’ on me, though.”

“I’m trying not to live up to the manipulative teen stereotype,” Chloe replied, with a slight hint of smugness. That made me wonder… was she meta-manipulating me? Did she know that showing maturity was a better way of getting me to agree than trying to guilt me into it? I felt too old to deal with teenage mind games, so if she was playing them, I let her win that round.

The theater Chloe was meeting her friends at was only a couple blocks from the other end of our subway ride, so we didn’t have far to go before she stopped me. “You okay to leave me here?”

“I guess so.” Much as I wanted to walk her all the way there, I knew that I had to let her assert this small bit of independence, or she’d probably end up forcing the issue in some way that would _really_ scare me. “You have everything you need?”

Chloe riffled through her small shoulder bag. “Phone, check. Wallet, check. Condoms, check.” I gave her a skeptical look. “Kidding!”

“No, really?” I asked, with all the sarcasm I could muster. “Now, if you’d said ‘dental dams’, you might actually have got me going.” Chloe had never explicitly said anything about her sexuality to either Dana or me, but even at fourteen I was pretty sure that she’s about as straight as I am.

After a moment of complete shock, she burst into laughter, and then surprised me by pulling me into a fierce hug. “I love you, Mom. Thanks for being awesome.”

“I love you too, sweetie,” I told her, trying desperately not to tear up. “Now, go have fun with your friends. Don’t forget to let me know when to pick you up; I promise to hide in the shadows, somewhere they won’t see me. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”

Chloe smiled at me. “Deal. I’ll see you later.” Then, she walked around the corner, and out of sight. Somehow, I resisted the urge to peer around it and watch her go; instead, I forced myself to turn and head back towards the subway. As I went, I sang part an old song softly to myself. _Don’t make her drop you off around the block; remember, she’s getting older too._ That wasn’t so bad, right? Maybe, just maybe, I could be okay with her growing up after all.

* * *

###### Victoria

To my relief, Chloe’s train was only a couple of minutes late getting into the station. Dana had sent me a text to let me know which carriage my niece was in, so I’d staked out a spot in the middle of the platform. As soon as the doors opened, I was scanning the disembarking passengers; Chloe was the third one off, and she bounced over to give me a quick hug.

“Hi, Aunt Victoria, thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course; I’m sure Rachel will be thrilled to see you.”

“I hope so,” she said, a hint of concern in her voice. I’m sure she knows as well as I do that Rachel can sometimes be slow to forgive, and she’d been pretty devastated when Chloe told her that she wouldn’t be able to come. “Say, do you think we could pick up something for lunch on the way home?”

I smirked at her; she was well aware that I refuse to indulge my weakness for cheesesteaks without a good excuse. “I think that can be arranged.” We stopped off at Abner’s, and Chloe good-naturedly teased me about that fact that I got mine with Cheez Whiz rather than some ‘appropriately fancy’ provolone.

When we got home, Kate saw the bag I was carrying, and gave me a knowing grin. “I didn’t think I’d need to bother making anything for us to eat.” I called for the girls, then waited to see how long it would take them to show up.

When Rachel finally arrived, she stopped cold, her eyes wide, before virtually teleporting across the room to throw her arms around Chloe. “You came!” she squealed in surprise and delight, and I knew I’d done the right thing when I helped talk Max and Dana round.

“Yeah,” Chloe said, hugging Rachel back. “I managed to persuade the Moms to let me come down by myself. No way was I going to miss your birthday if I could help it.” It was at least a couple of minutes before I managed to pry them apart so that we could eat.

Rachel gave me a quick hug too. “Thanks, Mama, this is the best birthday surprise _ever_.” After that, the two of them sat down together, thick as thieves, and paid very little attention to the rest of us, as if they hadn’t seen each other in months; you’d never guess that they Skyped several times a week.

After lunch, I made up one of the spare beds, even though I knew full well the that girls would just drag the mattress out and dump it on the floor of Rachel’s room, so that Chloe could sleep in there. It was adorable how close the two of them had become, cementing the next generation of our strange little extended family. It wasn’t quite the same with Erin and Emma; they got on well enough, but they’d both made best friends among the other girls at their schools – whereas Rachel and Chloe were BFF’s practically from the day they met.

Through the window, I could see the two of them out in our garden, sat casually on a low stone wall. They were deep in conversation, and there was something about their postures and body language that reminded me of another pair of friends from long ago. Of course, I didn’t much care for _that_ Rachel and Chloe, especially after the _Tempest_ incident, but the resemblance was uncanny. I decided that it must just be a coincidence, that I was projecting my memories onto them. What else could it be?

I shook my head to clear it, then headed back down to the kitchen. I’d promised to bake a lasagne for Rachel’s birthday dinner, and it was time to get started on the prep.


	14. After the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel and Chloe learn the truth about their mothers’ time at Blackwell.
> 
> [F/F, G]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter this week, and a couple of new narrators!

###### Rachel

I’m not a snoop, honestly. Well… maybe I am; a little bit. I really did come into Mom’s studio just looking for some art paper, though. When I start searching through one of her cupboards, and I find a box in the bottom that’s simply labeled ‘College’, I can’t help but take a peek. Inside are a bunch of writing notebooks and printouts, sketch pads, and other stuff. It’s really kinda cool to be able to go through all the things that Mom was drawing and painting nearly twenty years ago.

Right at the bottom of the box, I find a plain brown folder containing a few sheets of photographic paper. I shake them out, and then sit back in shock. I’m looking at a black-and-white picture of a girl in her late teens; she’s wearing a pale blouse and dark skirt – and is tied up with duct tape. She’s sat against a wall in what looks to be a bare white room, and there’s a scarily vacant expression in her eyes. She seems oddly familiar, but it takes a few moments before I realize who it is: a much younger version of my mother.

Numbly, I turn to the next picture. It’s similar, but Mom is lying on her side, and it looks like her arms are tied behind her back. Again, the empty stare; it’s like she’s been drugged, or something. I turn to the third photo, and find her lying almost gracefully on the floor, clearly unconscious. My hands are shaking; who did this to my mother? I don’t believe for one second that she was there willingly.

When I finally manage to put that one aside, I find something different. Mom looks a few years older, and it’s no longer the sterile white setting, instead she’s in some dirty alleyway. I quickly turn back to the first picture and confirm that she’s in exactly the same pose – except that this time she’s staring angrily at the camera. It’s meticulously staged; I strongly suspect that Mom did _this_ project to help deal with… what happened to her. My feeling grows when the next picture mirrors the second, except that Mom is stuffed in the trunk of a car.

The final photograph in the folder is different again. Yes, Mom’s pose exactly matches that of the third picture, but she’s lying on a bed, looking blissfully asleep. Oh, and she’s completely nude. There’s a brief moment when one side of my brain is thinking _damn, but she was a hottie_ , right before the other side goes _eww, eww, eww, that’s your_ Mom, _you pervert!_ Quickly, I cover the picture up, but I’m so flustered that I don’t notice the tell-tale sound of Mom’s crutches until she’s right outside the door. As she pushes it open it’s far too late for me to hide what I was doing.

“Rachel? What are you…” her voice trails off as she takes in the scene. She leans her crutches against the wall, and awkwardly gets down to sit on the floor beside me, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Are you okay, sweetie?” Of course; always concern and comfort first with Mom, any anger or disappointment can wait until she’s sure I’m alright.

“I’m fine; are you?”

She drops her head for a moment. “I haven’t looked at these photographs since before you were born. I put all of that behind me a long time ago.”

“Who did that to you, Mom?” I asked her. “Who took those photos?”

She hesitates for a moment. “The second set was taken by Tori, for a project we did at university – one that was completely my idea. The first set… they were taken by our high school photography teacher.”

The haunted look in her eyes fires a white hot rage in my chest. “Who is he? I’m going to hunt him down and…”

Mom cuts me off before I can finish that thought. “I suspect you’d find that difficult – unless you’re thinking of breaking into a maximum security prison.”

My anger dissipates. “I wasn’t planning on it. So… what happened?” Mom just sits there, so I quickly continue, “sorry; I don’t mean to dredge up unpleasant memories.”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not that. I always planned to tell you eventually, just… not for a few more years.” She gives me a wry smile, “or maybe decades. Now that you’ve seen these, though, you deserve to know the truth. Could you give me a few days?”

“Of course, Mom, take all the time you need.”

“It’s not that, it’s just that it’s not only my story; Tori, Max, and Dana should be part of the telling of it, and Chloe should be there to hear it too.” I give her a curious look. “There are reasons, I promise.”

I nod slowly, then pull her into a hug. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, sweetie,” she says, and for a few minutes, we simply hold each other.

* * *

###### Chloe

It’s been a long week since I got the message from Rachel telling me about some disturbing photos she’d found – quickly followed by Mom coming in to tell me that she’d heard from Kate. What followed was a whole load of ‘adults being mysterious’, but since it led to Rachel and her family unexpectedly coming up to NY for the weekend, I’m not complaining. She’s currently sat next to me on the small couch – pressed up close against me to make room for Ma, and I’m _definitely_ not complaining about that. Mom, and Rachel’s parents are sat on the larger couch, all sporting serious expressions. The E’s are out with Ferdi and George for the day; I guess they’re too young to hear whatever story our mothers are going to tell.

Ma starts the ball rolling. “So, you know that we all met at high school; you might even remember the place, you went with us to a reunion there, about ten years ago.” I do vaguely recall that. “Vic and I were boarders at Blackwell for our whole high school career, but Max and Kate were only there for our senior year, thanks to a special arts program they have.”

“For me, it was more like coming home,” adds Mom. “I grew up in Arcadia Bay, until we moved up to Seattle when I was thirteen.” I blink at her in surprise; I’d always assumed that she’d shared her birthplace with Starbucks and Amazon.

“Anyway,” Ma continues, “What we want to talk to you about mostly happened during one week in October 2013, just over a month after the start of term.”

“It all began on a Friday night,” Kate says, “when, for reasons I still don’t understand, I decided to go to a Vortex club party. Back then, I was still very much the model of a good Christian girl, like my mother wanted me to be; at her encouragement I’d even started an abstinence club at school. I suppose that going to the party was my one small act of rebellion. I allowed myself a tiny bit of wine and then tried to socialize. I don’t remember much after that; feeling ill, someone promising to take me to hospital, a sterile white room.”

“That’s when those pictures were taken, isn’t it?” Rachel asks. I can feel the emotions coming off her in waves. “Someone at that party slipped something in your drink, then pretended to help you.”

“Yes, although I didn’t know it at the time. I woke up the next morning on the floor outside my dorm room. The first clue I had to what happened was when I got an anonymous message with a link to a video on YouTube that had been taken at the party. It turned out that, under the influence of whatever drug I’d been given, I’d made out with what seemed like half the guys there.”

“Who would do something as humiliating as that, to you of all people?” Rachel asks, anger in her voice.

There’s a long pause before Vic whispers, “I did.” I stare in shock at the women who I swear would rather chew off her own arm than hurt Kate. “I was a very different person back then, a high school cliché: the mean queen bee.” There are tears in her eyes, and I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen her cry before. “I didn’t care who I hurt if it helped me maintain my status.” Her eyes dart to Ma, and then Mom, before finally landing on Kate. “I am _so_ sorry.”

Kate pulls Vic’s head down to her chest. “Oh, sweetie, I forgave you a long, long time ago, you know that.” Rachel is over there in a flash, awkwardly wrapping her arms around her mothers. Her cheeks are damp when she comes back, and I risk putting my own arm around her, earning me a grateful smile. “Anyway,” Kate continues, “after that, I became… withdrawn; depressed. It seemed like Max was the only friend I had left, and she had her own troubles to deal with. If she hadn’t found out the truth, I don’t know what I would have done.” She glances at Max. “No, that’s not true. I know _exactly_ what I would have done.” She allows Vic to take her in her arms, and I pull Rachel a little tighter.

“Now, this is where things get strange,” says Mom. “There are two versions of the next few days; the one that I remember, and the one that everyone else remembers. It began on the Monday afternoon; I dozed off in my photography class, and had a weird dream about a massive storm coming to destroy the town, so afterwards I headed to the bathroom to freshen up a little. There was a strange butterfly in there, and it was while I was taking a Polaroid of it that two people came in. I couldn’t see the face of one of them, but I did see that she had blue hair; the other was Nathan Prescott.”

“The guy who took me to the so-called ‘hospital’,” Kate supplies.

“I was around a corner at the back, so they didn’t see me. They argued, and then… then there was a gunshot. I came out of hiding just in time to see the girl falling to the floor… and then I woke up in my photography class again.”

“Like, it was a dream?” I ask.

Mom shakes her head. “That’s what I thought at first, but then everything in class happened just the way I remembered. I was so shocked that I knocked my camera on the floor, smashing it – but when I reached down, it was like the whole world went backwards around me, and it flew back up onto my desk, undamaged. I sat through the rest of the class in shock, then hurried back to the bathroom. With the help of my new rewind power, I was able to hit the fire alarm when Nathan pulled his gun on the blue-haired girl; it distracted him enough for her to get away.”

“I ran into her again a little later, in the school parking lot. That’s when I finally saw her face, and I recognized her at once. She was my childhood best friend since I was a toddler until we moved to Seattle. Her name… was Chloe Price.”

“Chloe?” I exclaim, suddenly understanding why our parents wanted me to be part of this conversation.

Mom nods. “Yes. That’s how I knew, the moment you boldly introduced yourself with,” she grins at me, “blue paint in your hair, that you were going to be a part of our family.”

“Wait… you said her name _was_ Chloe?”

“Also,” Rachel adds, “can we circle back to the whole ‘time travel’ thing?”

It’s Ma who answers. “Remember how we said how Max remembers that week differently from us? As far as we’re concerned – as far as the rest of the world is concerned – Chloe Price died in that bathroom.” It’s my turn to go over to the other couch to deliver a hug, as I see the tears pricking at Mom’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “Saving Chloe only to lose her all over again must have been even worse.”

“It was,” she says, “although I had Kate and Dana to help me through it. But… we’re getting ahead of the story. Chloe took me back to her place, and we reconnected. She told me about a new best friend she’d made after I left. I recognized her from the ‘missing person’ posters I’d seen all over school; the same posters that there was a pile of on Chloe’s desk. Her name was Rachel Amber.”

I turn to Rachel, and see her eyes widening. “My name… it’s not a coincidence like Chloe’s, is it?”

“No,” Kate tells her, “no it isn’t. What happened to me happened to Rachel Amber too, except that they messed up the drug dosage and… she’d been dead for months by the time Max and I started at Blackwell. I never met Rachel, but somehow I felt a connection to her, so when I found out I was pregnant with you, I decided that I wanted to honor her memory, and as a reminder to myself that things could have been so much worse.” She ducks her head. “How it almost was so much worse.”

Rachel looks at her with sudden concern. “What do you mean?”

Kate turns to Mom, who picks up the story. “The day after I saved Chloe, Kate didn’t show up for our last class, then one of the boys burst in, telling us something crazy was going on at the girls’ dorm. We all ran over there, where Kate was standing on the parapet at the top of the tower. I got there just in time to see her jump off.” Rachel’s hand flies to her mouth, and I pull her into my arms. “I used my rewind power before she hit the ground, but she just jumped again. Eventually my power seemed to go on the fritz, and time simply froze around me; I could see raindrops just hanging in the air. It lasted long enough for me to make my way up to the roof, then fizzled out. All I had left were words but, somehow, I managed to talk Kate down.”

Rachel pulls out of my arms, and goes over to hug Mom. “Thank-you,” she says, “thank-you for saving my Mom.” Mom murmured something in her ear, and Kate reached over to rub Rachel’s back. She turns to look up at her mother. “I’m sorry…” she begins.

“It’s okay,” Kate tells her, “it never happened, not for the rest of us. I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t have those thoughts, but _I_ remember Max coming to me on the Monday night, after she got back from the police station, and telling me what had really happened to me. The truth might not have been pleasant, but it did stop me from blaming myself.” Rachel gives her a hug, then comes back to settle next to me.

“The rest of that week was Chloe and me playing amateur detectives,” Mom continues, “and discovering that I could also travel back in time through photographs; although that didn’t end well.” I get the distinct impression that there’s a story behind that which she _really_ doesn’t want to tell. “We figured out that Nathan was responsible, and tracked down the ‘Dark Room’ – an honest to Dog underground lair – where the photos were taken. We tried to catch up with him at another Vortex Club party; instead, we got played and walked straight into a trap set by Mr Jefferson, our photography teacher and Blackwell’s resident evil mastermind. He dosed me with something and shot Chloe.”

“I woke up tied to a chair in the Dark Room, but I managed to escape and save Chloe, after a lot of time travel and a _really_ creepy dream sequence. In the end, we found ourselves up by the old lighthouse, with the storm from my visions coming to destroy Arcadia Bay. Since it seemed to be linked to my time powers, we decided that the only you way to stop it…” she pauses, clearly choked up. I go over and sit on the floor in front of Mom, taking her hands.

“It’s okay, you can tell us.” She nods.

“The only way to stop the storm was for me to have never used my powers at all. I still had the photograph of the butterfly that I took in the bathroom just before I saw Chloe get shot. I could use that to travel back in time and do… nothing. Let Chloe die, and… hope that time would right itself. I didn’t want to make that choice, didn’t want to let Chloe die again, but… she insisted; kissed me goodbye and told me to do it. She sacrificed herself to save the whole town.”

I look up at my mother’s tear-stained face, and I can see that it still haunts her, more than twenty years later. “I want you to know,” I tell her, “how proud I am to share my name with such a courageous woman, and how sorry I am that I’ll never get to meet her.”

She gives me a watery smile. “Thank-you, that means a lot. I’m sorry, I…” she gets up and hurries off; Ma follows her to their bedroom.

“That’s about it,” Kate says. “Afterwards, Max found herself back in her room on the Friday evening, and back in the same timeline as the rest of us. The storm never appeared, and whatever version of Max that filled in for her while she was gone had told the police everything, so Nathan and Jefferson were arrested on the Monday, before they could do any more harm. She helped me to come to terms with everything, and she helped Dana out a little, too. She’d also invited us over for a movie night on Friday evening, just after _our_ Max got back. We worked out straight away that something was up, and she ended up pouring out the truth to us and, well, there we are.”

“That’s… a lot to take in,” Rachel said at last.

“I know,” Vic tells us, “I still remember how I felt when Max finally told me, five years later. I was too wrapped up in my own ‘issues’ to notice what was going on at the time, so it completely blind-sided me.” She sneaks a glance at her partner. “Especially the bit about Kate.” The two of them look at each other and rest their heads together, blocking out the world.

“Why don’t you two take some time alone together?” suggests Ma from the bedroom door. “Talk or think things over without any adults listening in. I’ll check in on you later.”

* * *

###### Rachel

As Chloe leads me to her bedroom, I still have no idea what to make of everything our parents just told us. I’d be tempted to dismiss it as nothing but a story, if they hadn’t all been so damn serious about it – Mom especially. I know all too well that she’s not above some gentle teasing, and even the odd white lie, but I can’t see her agreeing to take part in such an elaborate deception; not of her own daughter, and for no apparent reason.

By the time I’ve closed the door behind us, Chloe has already made herself comfortable, stretched out on the far side of her bed. Quickly, I join her, burying my face in her neck and breathing in her comforting scent. We wrap our arms around each other and tangle our legs together. It’s been too long since I’ve held Chloe like this; a few weeks, at least. I sigh happily as she kisses the top of my head.

“So, what I’d you make of all that?” I ask her at last.

“The whole time travel thing sounds pretty unbelievable,” Chloe says, “but I guess I believe it; or, at least, I believe that _they_ believe it. What’s the alternative? My mom had some sort of mental breakdown and the whole thing was just a delusion? Besides, that wouldn’t explain why the others are convinced that she knew things she couldn’t possibly have known.” 

“And why would they all try to cover it up and still have Mom admit to…” I can’t bring myself to say it, and Chloe just holds me even tighter. After a while, I change the subject. “So, what do you make of the fact that we both have namesakes who died while they were at that school?”

“It’s a little… weird? Creepy? I dunno. I mean, it’s not like Mom named me after her dead best friend, that’s just a bizarre coincidence.” She hesitates for a moment before asking, “did you pick up on a vibe that there was more going on between Mom and Chloe?”

I pull back a little so that I can see her face, to try and figure out what’s going through her head. “I got the impression that your Mom developed feelings for Chloe over that week, but I bet she was just as confused about it as we were to start with. She mentioned kissing Chloe goodbye; I think that’s probably as far as it ever got. Why, does that bother you? It’s not like you haven’t met a bunch of your parents’ exes.”

“I’m not sure, I have this whole idealized thing about how they were high school sweethearts who chose not to get in the way of each other’s dreams, and how fate brought them back together, and brought them to Em and me, and now…”

“Now you know how strong the foundations of their relationship are. Dana helped Max through something incredibly traumatic, and won her heart despite competing against the memory of a first love who sacrificed herself to save hundreds or thousands of people. And to have them adopt a little girl who shares her name… what’s that, if not fate?”

Chloe looks at me for a long moment. “Thank-you,” she says softly, before planting a gentle kiss on my lips. “I’m sorry for going on about that before asking how _you’re_ doing with what you found out about your parents.”

I smile, and stroke her face. “I’m okay. Mama has talked to me before about how she’s ashamed of who she was in high school, and that she hurt Mom. I’ve made my peace with that, because it’s crystal clear how she feels about her now. As for Mom’s suicide attempt… that’s something that happened in another lifetime; I know how much more resilient she is than that now.”

“Good. So, how about our two namesakes; you think there was something going on _there_?” asks Chloe.

“Definitely,” I tell her.

“And they say history doesn’t repeat itself,” she says with a smirk, before pulling me into a kiss.

Some time later, there’s a knock on the door, causing us to spring apart. “Yeah?” Chloe calls.

The door opens, and Dana comes in. “How’re you two doing?” she asks.

“We’re okay,” Chloe says.

“Just need some time to process it all,” I add.

Dana spins around the chair at Chloe’s desk, and sits down. “I know. I remember when Max first told Kate and me; it was… a lot to take in. For Kate more than me, obviously, but it also dredged up the fact that I’d had to have an abortion a few days before,” I feel Chloe tense beside me, “and Kate was all kindness and no judgment.” I surreptitiously sneak an arm around Chloe’s back, and she relaxes. I’ve discussed that topic with Mom, and know that her views aren’t quite what her religious upbringing might suggest.

“I made two life-long friends that day,” Dana continues. “After we’d talked ourselves out, we huddled up on Max’s couch and watched a movie; she fell asleep on us about half way through, and afterwards I ended up tucking her into bed.” She smiles. “I guess that was when the first seeds of our romance were planted, too. Anyway, over the days and weeks that followed, the three of us helped each other through it all. I’m sure that you two will do the same; just remember that you have parents you can talk to if you need to.” She gets up and heads for the door.

“Ma, would it be okay if Rachel stays here tonight?” Chloe asks.

“I don’t see why not,” she says, looking at us with an unreadable expression, “as long as it’s alright with Kate. You know where the air mattress and spare linens are. Do come back out and be sociable when you’re ready, though, okay?” She slips back out of the room without waiting for an answer.

I relax, and Chloe rolls over to lay her head on my chest. “So… what was that about?” I ask her.

“Oh, I just really wanted you to sleep with me tonight.”

I freeze. “Uh…” I mean, I know that things are – very slowly – heading in that direction, but no way am I ready yet. Our parents have been calling us cousins for as long as I can remember, and even though I know we’re completely unrelated, that’s a hard mindset to break. While ‘kissing cousins’ is apparently a thing, I’m pretty sure that ‘fucking cousins’ really isn’t.

Chloe lifts her head and smirks at me. “Not like that,” she says, unrepentant. Then, more seriously, “I’m not ready for that either, I just… really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

I lean up to kiss her forehead. “Then I’ll be here for you, always. Besides, there’s no place I’d rather be.” I think for a moment. “One problem: we already dropped our bags off at the hotel, so I don’t have any PJ’s, or a change of clothes for tomorrow.”

“I’m sure your parents can bring you over some fresh clothes in the morning. As for pajamas…” she gets an evil grin on her face. “Why not emulate Tori; didn’t you tell me that she prefers to sleep…”

While I might be happy to follow Mama’s example in the privacy of my own room at home from time to time, no way is that happening while I’m sharing a bed with _anyone_ just yet, so I decide to shut Chloe up.

Kissing her on the lips does the job rather well.

* * *

###### Chloe

After Rachel’s well-timed make-out distraction, I agree to loan her a pair of my pajamas. Whilst the idea of having her naked in my bed gets my pulse racing and my body tingling, I’m pretty sure that I’m not ready to take that to it’s logical conclusion yet. Certainly not with my parents and sister in the house. It’ll be more than enough for me to have Rachel share my bed, rather than one of us having to sleep on that uncomfortable blow-up one.

I’m still not sure how to feel about our parents bringing us up as cousins; the mindset that gave us is the reason why we’ve only recently migrated from hand-holding and shy kisses to, well, what just happened. On the other hand, if they hadn’t… either we’d most likely never ended up getting so close – or we’d have risked getting too close too fast and rushed into things we weren’t ready for. I guess if there’s anything we should learn from Mom’s story, it’s that there’s no point second-guessing the past.

“C’mon,” I tell Rachel, “we should get that air bed set up like Ma said.”

“Fine,” she says, climbing out of bed, “as long as I at least get to flip for who has to sleep in it.”

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on either of us actually _using_ it – as long as you’re okay with sharing.”

A slow smile spread across Rachel face. “You really weren’t kidding about wanting to sleep with me, were you?”

“I never kid about our love life.”

A few minutes later, we rejoin our parents. I find Mom alone in the kitchen, making some tea. “I’m so sorry,” I say, pulling her into a hug. “You really loved Chloe, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” she replies, without hesitation, "but remember what Picard said: ’‘Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.’" I can’t help but laugh at the reference to the cheesy old sci-fi show she’s been making us watch, and I know that she really is okay. I put some mugs and a jug of milk on a tray, then take it through while Mom brings the teapot.

There’s still a faint air of anticipation in the front room, as if our earlier conversation still isn’t quite finished. Once she’s had a few sips of her tea, Kate explains why. “There’s one last thing for us to do, and that’s to pass on some… heirlooms. May I?” she asks, turning to Rachel.

“Uh… sure?”

Kate reaches up, and gently removes the stud from her daughter’s left ear, then takes something out of a small box and carefully slips it on. When she takes her hand away, I can see a single blue feather hanging from Rachel’s ear.

“This once belonged to Rachel Amber. I met her mother when we were in Arcadia Bay for our school reunion. She’d heard me mention your name, and when I explained why I’d chosen it, she gave this to me and asked me to pass it on to you when the time was right.” She holds up a small mirror so that Rachel can see herself. “Wear it with pride.”

Mom turns to me and cocks her head. I nod, and she pulls out something which she then fastens around my neck. For a moment, I get a really weird sensation, like the old saying about someone walking over your grave, but it quickly passes. Looking down, I can see three bullets hanging from a leather thong. “I remember Chloe Price wearing this during that crazy week in another time. Joyce – her mother, and a very dear friend – wanted you to have this. Whatever else she may have been, when it counted, Chloe was the bravest woman I’ve ever known. I hope you’ll wear this and remember her.”

I share a silent look with Rachel, before we answer in unison, “We will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’ve got one more plotty chapter which (fingers crossed) I hope to post next weekend, and a vague plan for some holiday fluff. Then, in the new year, _Pieced Together_ \- which currently consists of a bunch of largely unconnected scenes which I need to… er… piece together, so I’m not going to promise any sort of schedule for that.


	15. Back to Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go full circle as the next generation approach their senior year of high school.
> 
> [F/F, Explicit]

When Chloe got home from school, the first thing she did was hurry over to the apartment building’s mailboxes to check if there was anything for her family. If she’d been doing it a little more eagerly than usual for the last few days, that was because she was waiting for one letter in particular. She unlocked the box and pulled out the thin sheaf of envelopes inside, immediately leafing through them. The one she’d been hoping for was right at the bottom.

“What’cha got?” Emma asked, snatching the letter from Chloe’s hand and studying the crest on it. “ _Blackwell Academy_ … isn’t that the school Mom and Ma went to, where all that weird shit happened?” Chloe nodded. “Why would they be writing to… ohhh! Do they even know you applied?”

“No,” Chloe said quickly, “and don’t you _dare_ say anything. Unless this letter tells me that I’ve got a place _and_ a scholarship, then I can’t go, and they don’t ever need to know. I wouldn’t want them to be disappointed in me.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Don’t be daft, sis, you know they’re not like that. So, are you going to open that?”

Chloe shook her head, retrieved the letter, and went over to the elevator. “No, I’m going to do it in my room, where I don’t have a nosey little sister looking over my shoulder.”

Emma pouted. “But… if you _have_ got the scholarship, then you’ll be going away next year?”

“That’s why I applied, E, yes. Well, as long as Rachel gets in as well.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Seriously, you two just need to get a room.” Chloe looked away, a slight flush on her cheeks. “Oh my god, you already have!”

“That’s really none of your business.” Chloe said sharply, then relented. “Sorry, it’s just… it’s new, and it’s private, and we really don’t want any of the Moms finding out about it.” She flinched at the _ding_ of the elevator arriving, then stepped inside.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a snitch. It’s just…” Emma wrinkled her nose. “You’re like cousins!”

“Except we’re _not_ cousins. None of the Moms are actually related, and even if they were, _we’re_ adopted, so…” She shrugged. “I _do_ get it, it’s the reason we took things as slowly as we did. But… Rachel has always been _the one_ for me. For as long as I can remember, whenever I imagined my future, she was always the person I’d be with.”

“So, you’re in love with her?” Emma asked as the elevator doors opened.

Chloe quickly stepped out and looked around, relieved to find the corridor empty. “D’you think you could have said that a little louder?” she hissed, before hurrying over to unlock their apartment door.

Once they were inside, and had established that neither of their mothers was home, Emma pressed her question. “So?”

Chloe sighed. “Yes, I’m in love with Rachel. Happy now?”

Emma looked at her for a long moment, before nodding. “I am. You’re my big sister, and I love you, so of course I want you to be happy. Erin and Rachel are my family as well, even if I know we’re not really related, so the same applies to them. If you and Rachel are in love, and you make each other happy, then I’m glad for you.”

Chloe stared at her sister for a moment, then gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, E. You’re the best sister _ever_.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday,” Emma pointed out with a smirk.

“Since you’re my _only_ sister, it’s perfectly reasonable for you to be both the worst one _and_ the best one.”

“Yeah, well, remember that applies to you too. Anyways, you should go open that letter.” A minute later, Chloe was in her room, using a penknife to slit the envelope, before nervously pulling out its contents.

> Dear Miss Ward,
> 
> I am delighted to offer you a place to study at Blackwell Academy for your senior year, starting in September 2037. I am also pleased to inform you that should you accept this offer, we will also be able to provide you with a full scholarship.

She stopped reading after that first paragraph, instead clutching the letter to her chest and bouncing excitedly for a few moments. Then, she opened up her laptop and glared at the ‘offline’ icon next to Rachel’s picture in Skype. A minute or so later, it changed; a moment after that, the call came through.

“Hey, gorgeous, did you get your letter too?” Rachel asked without preamble.

“Yup, and I got in.”

“Awesome! Me too! What about the scholarship?”

“Congrats, and I got that as well.”

“So… we’re really going to do this?”

“Provided our parents aren’t mean and hypocritical, yes.”

“Oh, I think we can talk them around.”

* * *

“Thanks, Mom, that was great,” Erin said, pushing her plate away.

“You’re welcome,” Kate told her, “and now you get to earn it.” Erin grimaced, but got up and began to clear the table. Victoria began to rise too, but Rachel stopped her.

“Could you stay for a mo, there’s something I need to talk to you two about.”

“Uh-oh,” said Victoria, sitting back down, “this can’t be good.”

“Now, that’s just rude,” Rachel told her with a pout. “This is a _good_ thing, I hope.” She pulled the Blackwell letter out of her back pocket, unfolded it, end set it down on the table between her mothers. Victoria raised an eyebrow, while Kate picked the letter up to read it.

“Congratulations!” Kate said after a few moments. “But… why didn’t you talk to us about this?”

“When we first had the idea, we made a pact that we wouldn’t tell any of you until we were sure that it would be possible for both of us to go.”

“Both?” queried Victoria. “Chloe?”

“Yes; she got her letter today as well.”

“What made you want to apply in the first place?” Kate asked.

“After you told us about what happened there, it was clear that, for better or worse, your time at Blackwell was an incredibly important part of all four of your lives, and had a massive influence on the people you’ve become. Both Chloe and I felt… compelled to find out if it could be that for us, too.”

Kate and Victoria shared a long look, before Kate spoke. “I understand your reasons for keeping this from us, but I’m still upset that you did. I’m also not happy about you leaving home a year earlier than we were expecting, but I suppose that I can hardly complain when you’re only following in my own footsteps.”

“So… I can go?”

“Yes, you can go,” said Victoria. “Although… not to be indelicate, but I doubt that Dana and Max can afford the fees for Chloe to go with you. We’d happily offer to pay, but my concern is that they’ll be too proud to accept, or at least would treat it as a loan that they’d struggle to pay back.”

“Don’t worry,” Rachel said. “We thought of that, and there was a third condition that had to be met before we told you: Chloe got a full scholarship.”

“Good for her!” said Kate, warmly. “But… you didn’t?” Her expression told Rachel that she was teasing.

“Seriously, Mom; you two are loaded, and those things are means tested. I didn’t even bother applying. Besides, imagine how shitty I’d feel if I’d got one and Chloe hadn’t.”

“It sounds like you put a lot of thought into this,” Kate said, leaning forward to rest a hand on Rachel’s. “I’m really proud of you.”

“We both are,” agreed Victoria, all three of them blinking back tears. “Now go find out if Chloe got a green light too. And, if not, let me know – I’ll have words with Max.”

“Thanks, Moms,” Rachel managed, then got up and hurried off to her room.

“Look at our little girl, all grown up,” Kate said, tears on her cheeks.

Victoria shifted her chair to put an arm around Kate. “I know.” Then, after a moment’s thought, she added, “I hope for his sake that Principal Wells really _is_ retired now…”

* * *

“It feels hella strange to be back here again,” Max said as Victoria turned their rented minivan into the Blackwell parking lot. “I thought that class reunion would be the last time.”

“You should know better than anyone that we can’t predict the future,” Victoria told her as she turned the engine off. Rachel and Chloe got out to start unloading their cases; both had made good use of their parent’s baggage allowance, as well as their own, on their flights to Portland. The four of them headed up to the main quad, and the pairs took it in turns to go inside and register.

“Right… that way?” Rachel said, pointing. When Victoria just shrugged, as if to say ‘you’re on your own, now,’ she rolled her eyes and dragged her case in that direction. A couple of minutes later, they arrived at what a plaque proudly proclaimed to be the ‘Amber/Price Memorial Dormitory’.

“I had no idea,” Max said softly, staring at the sign, “they’d only got as far as ripping down the ‘Prescott Dormitory’ plaque by the time we graduated, and we didn’t come round here at the reunion.” She ran her hand along the top of it, lost in thought, before shaking her head to clear it. “Sorry.”

Chloe gave her a quick sideways hug. “You’re allowed to miss her, Mom.”

“I know. C’mon.” She led them inside, pleased to see the long-delayed handicap access ramp had finally been installed some time after they left. Better still, there was now an elevator in the lobby, meaning they didn’t have to lug the cases up several flights of stairs – more importantly, it also meant that Kate would be able to visit. “So, where are you?” she asked when they entered the familiar corridor.

The two girls studied the map. “Far end, on the left,” said Rachel.

“And I’m opposite her,” added Chloe.

Victoria smiled. “My old room, and Max’s old room; either that’s a massive coincidence, or somebody’s been doing their homework.”

When Chloe unlocked the door and went into what would be her home for the next year, Max was close behind her, looking eagerly around. “It’s really weird to be back in this room again. Doesn’t look like much has changed; they’ve replaced the couch – and I hope they’ve replaced the bed, because that thing was hella uncomfortable twenty-five years ago.”

“Me too, because – no offense – but I don’t really want to sleep in a bed my parents have had sex in.”

Max laughed. “What makes you think we only used the bed?”

“La-la-la-la-la,” Chloe sung, sticking her fingers in her ears. Max simply laughed harder.

* * *

After the girls had unpacked, the four of them drove into town, to what Max still thought of as ‘the Price house’. When she’d last talked to Joyce, and told her about Blackwell’s latest students, she’d insisted on not only inviting them all for dinner, but putting Max and Victoria up for the night.

“Evenin’, Max; good to see you again,” David said when he answered the door. “How was your flight?”

“Not too bad,” she told him while she waited for the others to catch up. “How’s retirement treating you?”

“Truth be told, I’m bored out of my mind,” he admitted as he led the way inside. “I even let Joyce persuade me to take over doing the books for the Two Whales, just to have something to do.”

“ _She’s_ still working, then?”

“So she says; mostly she just sits on her stool behind the counter and gossips with the customers.”

“I heard that!” called Joyce from the kitchen, but the tone of her voice tells Max that she knows her husband is teasing – and that there’s probably a grain of truth to what he said.

“Go on through,” David suggested softly, “she’s that eager to see you.”

Chloe, bringing up the rear, was just closing the front door, and Max nodded for her to follow. Joyce was sliding a large casserole dish into the oven as they entered the kitchen. When she turned around, her eyes widened, and her hand flew up to her mouth. “Are you okay?” Max asked, at her side in a flash.

“Yes, dear. It’s been ten years since I last saw you two, and I didn’t expect there to be such a resemblance between your Chloe and mine.”

Max turned to regard her daughter. “Honestly, I don’t really see it – but then, I’ve watched Chloe grow up day by day, so she’s never looked like anyone but herself to me.”

Joyce regarded Chloe’s brand-new dye-job for a moment. “Perhaps it’s the hair; you never really got to see Chloe like that – or at this age, I suppose.” She didn’t see the flash of pain that crossed Max’s face. “I’m sorry, where are my manners?” She stepped forward to take one of Chloe’s hands in hers. “It’s lovely to meet you Chloe, I’m Joyce.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” Chloe replied, a little thrown by their conversation, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Anyway, I was just adding some dumplings, so dinner should be ready in another quarter hour. I should say hello to the others.” She made her way into the back room, where Victoria was deep in conversation with David, and approached the other girl. “You must be Rachel,” she said, “and it seems that Chloe isn’t the only one who bears more than a passing resemblance to her namesake.”

“Nice to meet you, Joyce. I’m looking forward to visiting the Two Whales; it’s a constant source of nostalgia for our families.”

“Ooh, yes, me too!” added Chloe.

Joyce laughed. “Just as long as you don’t expect free handouts like my daughter did!”

* * *

It happened a few days after the start of term. Rachel was depressingly familiar with being an object of the male gaze, and she’d felt more than a few pairs of eyes on her both in and out of class. That didn’t stop her taking a shortcut round the side of the swimming pool, but the fact that she was daydreaming a little meant that she didn’t notice the three jocks until they pretty much had her cornered.

“Hey… Rachel, isn’t it?” the biggest one began. “You got a man to take you to the Vortex Club party this weekend?”

“No, why, do you know some?”

His friends sniggered. “She probably doesn’t even know what the Vortex Club is,” one of them said.

“Sure I do, one of my Moms practically ran the damn thing for a while, until the bitches turned on her, and she decided that getting good grades was more important than some crappy social club.”

“Yeah, right. Well, membership ain’t optional for hot chicks.”

“Or for sexist pricks with tiny dicks, apparently. Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Rachel knew that she was letting her big mouth get the better of her, but _dammit, it’s the thirties_ , she thought, _women shouldn’t have to put up with this shit any more_.

“You need to shut the fuck up and decide which of us you’re going with.”

“I wouldn’t go with any of you, not if it was the last party on Earth,” Rachel told them. “I’m leaving now.”

She got all of two steps before one of the jocks blocked her path. “You aren’t going _anywhere_ ,” he told her, a hint of menace in his voice.

“You heard the lady; she said she was leaving.” Chloe walked up to stand next to Rachel. “You should get out of her way.”

“I don’t think so,” said one of the boys, grabbing Rachel’s arm. “We hadn’t finished our conversation.”

“You need to let Rachel go _right now_.” Chloe’s voice was low, cold, and dangerous. “Before I have to make you.”

“Really? You and what army?”

“Oh, I think I can deal with three little boys all by myself.”

That was the last straw. Rachel began to shout a warning as the boy behind Chloe jumped at her, but somehow she already seemed to know what was coming. After that, Rachel lost track of what happened as Chloe became a blur of motion, ending with the three boys in a pile on the ground, groaning.

“You okay?” Chloe asked, not so much as breathing heavily.

Rachel replied by throwing her arms around her and whispering in her ear. “I’m fine, and that was seriously hot. You are _so_ getting some later.”

Chloe growled softly in Rachel’s ear, then turned to lead her away from her would-be assailants. “C’mon, lets’s go…” She trailed off as they narrowly avoided running straight into a man in a Blackwell security uniform.

_Well, shit._

* * *

Chloe and Rachel nervously filed into the Principal’s office. “Sit down, please,” said the elderly black man behind the desk, gesturing towards a pair of chairs. “Well, this gives me a strange feeling of déjà vu,” he continued, once they were settled. “Chloe Price and Rachel Amber sat in those very chairs more than a few times.” The two girls shared a look, but didn’t say anything.

“Now, the last time I saw you two was over ten years ago, when Max and Victoria pointed you out at their class reunion. I told them then that I hoped to be long retired if you should ever come here, so, naturally, that’s when Principal Wilson decided to go off on paternity leave and the school board dragged me out of retirement to provide cover.” He sighed. “Why don’t you tell me what happened.”

“I was walking back from class, when those three boys – sorry, I don’t know their names – approached me,” began Rachel. “They asked if I had a ‘man’ to take me to the Vortex Club party at the weekend, and when I said that I didn’t, they insisted that I had to go with one of them. When I declined their offer and tried to leave, they blocked my path; that’s when Chloe showed up. One of the boys grabbed me, Chloe told him to let me go, he refused, and another one of them tried to jump her from behind. Then, Chloe did her Michelle Yeoh thing, and we left – or we would have, if Mr. Calhoun hadn’t been there.”

“And that’s it?”

“Well… we may have insulted them a little bit, but nothing they didn’t deserve.”

Wells shook his head. “Do you have anything to add, Miss Ward?”

“I’d just like to point out that no-one was seriously hurt, and I’m not going to apologize for defending someone that I consider a part of my family.”

“The school nurse agrees with your assessment, luckily for you.”

“With respect, Sir, I wasn’t lucky; I was careful. I could just as easily have put those three clowns in the hospital, but that would have been a complete overreaction, and an abuse of my training.”

Wells raised his eyebrows at that. “You certainly have the confidence of your namesake, but I suspect that _yours_ may be better earned. Very well, the two of you are free to go; you’re not in any trouble – this time. Please try and do your best to avoid becoming repeat visitors to this office, though.”

“Yes, Sir,” Chloe said, echoed by Rachel, and the two of them hurried out.

* * *

“You okay?” Chloe asked Rachel as they went into her room.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, locking the door behind her, then grabbing the front of Chloe’s jacket and pulling her close. “And I believe I promised you something earlier.”

“You really don’t have to…” Chloe began, before Rachel spun them around, pushing her up against the door.

“I _want_ to,” she said, before kissing her hungrily. Her hands worked between them, unzipping Chloe’s jacket and pushing it off her shoulders, before working her T-shirt out of the waistband of her jeans. She broke their kiss just long enough to pull it over Chloe’s head.

“Cold,” muttered Chloe, as Rachel broke their kiss a second time to turn her attentions to Chloe’s neck.

“I can always stop…” Rachel suggested, with a wicked grin.

“Please don’t,” Chloe replied, as Rachel moved down to her chest, planting a row of kisses across the top of her breasts.

“If you’re sure,” she said, before licking the hard muscles of her abdomen while her fingers began unfastening the buttons of Chloe’s fly. Moments later, she pulled down her jeans and panties in one smooth move. Getting them over her ankles proved to be more troublesome, and Chloe was sniggering by the time she was done. That soon turned to moans when Rachel buried her face between her thighs. She quickly stifled those when Rachel’s “shh!” reminded her that there was only a flimsy wooden panel separating her from the dorm corridor.

A few minutes later, Chloe was bracing herself against the cabinet to compensate for the fact that one of her legs was hooked over Rachel’s shoulder to give her better access. Even so, it was only Rachel’s firm grip holding her against the door that kept her upright when her other leg turned to jelly as she came. When her shaking had subsided, Rachel carefully got up and kissed her. “I’m… not sure… I can stand… any longer,” Chloe managed, between breaths.

Rachel shot her a smug grin, then helped her to the bed, removing her bra on the way. Lying down beside her, Chloe kissed her again, before moving down to lavish attention on her breasts. Her hand slid down between Chloe legs and she plunged first one, then two fingers into her sopping wet pussy; she put her thumb to good use, too. Under the relentless assault on her nipples, clit, and G-spot, it felt like no time at all before a second orgasm crashed over Chloe.

“You okay?” Rachel asked, some indeterminate time later.

“Yeah,” Chloe managed. “That was… wow!” Rachel kissed her, and it wasn’t until she pulled away again that Chloe finally opened her eyes. “Why are you still dressed?” she asked, reaching up for her.

Rachel pulled playfully out of reach. “Because it’s only a few minutes until dinner.”

“You’re kidding!” Chloe said in disbelief.

“I never kid about food. You should probably put some clothes on; I need to go and clean up.”

“But…”

“Finish that thought later,” Rachel told her, before giving her one last, quick kiss, and then vanishing out the door.

* * *

It was Saturday night; Chloe and Rachel entered the pool building, dressed in their best party clothes. The girl behind the reception desk looked askance at them. “Are your names even on the list?” she asked, dubiously.

“Nah, but some boys told me that ‘attendance is mandatory for hot chicks,’” Rachel told her.

“Is that so?” the girl said, looking them over. “Well, I guess the two of you definitely qualify. Wait… aren’t you the girl who beat the crap of those three idiots from the football team?”

“Yeah, that was me.”

“Well, in that case, far be it from me to get in the way. Hold out your hands, please.” She wrapped bands around each of their wrists. “There you go. Remember, there’s a strict no alcohol or drugs policy, but I’d keep an eye on your drinks anyway.” 

“My Mom got roofied at one of these things back in the day,” Rachel said. “We know the drill.”

“I’m sorry, that’s awful. I hope you have a better time here than she did.”

“Thanks.” When they headed through to the pool area, the music went from being a muffled beat to an almost overwhelming wall of sound.

“I guess serious conversation is off the menu,” Chloe shouted into Rachel’s ear.

“I guess we’ll just have to dance, then, seeing as I forgot to put on a bikini under my dress,” Rachel shouted back, eyeing the dozen or so students cavorting in the pool itself.

“Don’t worry, I’ll remind you next time.” 

“In your dreams!”

“Every night,” Chloe confirmed with a smirk. Rachel rolled her eyes, and dragged her towards the impromptu dance floor. They’d barely got through one song when three familiar figures approached.

“Well, if it isn’t the two little snitches,” one of them sneered loudly.

“Dude, you got caught red handed by a security guard,” Rachel shouted back. “We didn’t need to tell anyone anything.”

“Since you accepted our invitation, you at least have to dance with us,” another of them said.

“Not happening,” Chloe told them. “Now leave us the fuck alone – unless you want everyone to _see_ you getting beaten up by a girl, instead of them just hearing about it.”

“Fuck you, bitch! No guy here is going to dance with _you_.”

“Do I look like I give a shit?” Chloe asked, before pulling Rachel into a searing kiss. They wrapped their arms around each other and deepened the kiss; it was at least a couple of minutes before they separated, breathing heavily.

“Well, I think we just outed ourselves to the entire school,” Rachel observed.

“You have a problem with that?”

“Hell, no,” she replied, drawing Chloe back in for another kiss.


	16. Make the Yuletide Gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ward and Santos families spend Christmas and New Year together. Fluff ensues.
> 
> [F/F, G]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, Happy Holidays to those who have one. Here's a little bit of fluff from the PoV of a couple of rather left-out family members.

###### Emma

I’m not sure how I feel about our holiday plans. We’re all heading out to Kate and Victoria’s cabin; it’s nice, but it _is_ somewhat removed from civilization, and I think maybe I’m a little bit too used to being in the city. Don’t get me wrong, the place is lovely, with every modern convenience money can buy – and with Victoria’s photography business outstripping her parents’, and Kate’s books making regular appearances on the children’s bestseller charts, they’re not short a penny – but it’s still a minimum fifteen minute drive to _anywhere_.

When we arrive, mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve, I can see Victoria’s Range Rover parked outside, so I know the others are already there. We unload our hire car, and roll our cases up onto the front deck, where Rachel is already holding the door open for us. She’s clearly bursting to see Chloe, even though they’ve been apart for less than a week; their relationship is an open secret which our parents are still pretending not to know about – whether just to us, or to themselves as well, I’m not sure. That’s not to say I won’t be happy to see Erin; we get on like a house on fire when we’re together, but then we go back to our separate lives when we aren’t.

The door leads to a large entryway, where we hang up our coats, and then to the great room. It goes all the way up to the roof, with a mezzanine around three sides which has a couple of cozy seating areas, and the doors to the upstairs bedrooms and bathrooms. On the ground floor, there are a couple of clusters of couches, one around the TV, and the other around the big open fire – which I immediately go to warm myself by – plus a table and chairs for playing board games or whatever. Dominating the room is a Christmas tree which looks twelve feet tall if it’s an inch. At the back are the entrances to the kitchen/diner, and the master suite which Kate and Victoria use, since there isn’t an elevator here like they have at home.

“Hey, E,” says Erin, coming over to lean against me. “How’s it going?” Our parents have been collectively calling us ‘the E’s’ since we were tiny, so that’s what we call each other. Chloe and Rachel call us that, too, and even do it with two different inflections so we know which of us they’re referring to, but baffles our moms as none of them have ever picked up on it.

“Pretty good, thanks. Much as it pains me to admit it, I’m actually really happy to have my big sister home for the holidays.”

“I know what you mean, it just felt wrong not having them with us for Thanksgiving.” She lowers her voice. “I just hope they’re not going to be all over each other the entire time we’re here.”

“I _think_ they’re going to be more subtle than that, at least around the Moms,” I whisper back.

“Maybe someone should tell _them_ to be subtle,” Erin mutters. Despite not officially being a couple, her parents are worse with the PDA’s than mine; at least around family. Looking around, I can see our sisters snuggled up together on an over-stuffed couch the other side of the fire from us. Our parents are deep in conversation, paired up on the other set of couches.

“Do you think this is how queer folk feel most of the time, surrounded by cishets? Y’know, other than the prejudice, and worrying about verbal and physical abuse, and… just forget I said anything.”

Erin grins at me and sings softly, “ _have yourself a merry little Christmas, make the Yuletide gay. From now on out troubles will be far away…_ ”

* * *

###### Erin

I wake up early the next morning; a quick look at the other bed shows that Emma’s still dead to the world. I slept surprisingly well, and there was no sound of… activity… from our sisters’ room – whether because they behaved themselves, or because the bathroom in-between acted as a buffer, I have no idea. Quickly, I get dressed and head down to the kitchen, where I find Mom making a pot of tea. There’s a section of the worktop that’s lower than the rest, so it’s the perfect height for her to use in her chair. The only sink is at full height, though, so she still gets permanently excused from doing the washing up; there was definitely a twinkle in her eye when she assured me that was purely a coincidence.

“Morning, Mom,” I say brightly, “Merry Christmas!”

“And to you too, sweetie; I was wondering who was going to be the next person up.”

“You managed not to wake Mama?”

“She grumbled a lot, tried to stop me getting out of bed, and then went back to sleep. You want some tea?”

“Yes, please.” I turn to see that the voice coming from behind me is Dana’s. “Best make one for Chloe too, she’ll be down soon.”

“How did you get her up so early?” I ask, knowing there’s nothing that would have dragged Rachel out of bed at this hour.

“We used to exercise together before school, plus I challenged her to a sparring match, just to see how rusty she’s gotten.”

“I’m not sure that’s really in the spirit of Christmas,” Mom says, but she’s smiling. Families spending time together – in whatever way – is _exactly_ what she thinks Christmas should be about.

“And don’t be so sure that Chloe’s out of shape,” says Rachel, coming through the doorway, “she’s gotten some practice on live targets at least once.”

“Er… what?” asks Dana.

“Oh, these three assholes from the football team were trying it on with Rachel; when they wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, I had to smack them down. Don’t worry, Ma, I didn’t give them anything worse than bruises.”

“Well, other than the irreparable damage to their egos,” sniggered Chloe, “and I got the impression that even Principal Wells though they deserved it.”

“Wait…” says Max, yawning as she joins us. “Wells still hasn’t retired?”

“He said he was just filling in while the regular Principal was on leave.”

“Um… I don’t think I’ve made enough tea for everyone,” says Mom, “I wasn’t expecting most of you up for another hour or two.”

“That’s fine,” Mama says, striding briskly in, “I need to make some coffee, anyway.”

A few minutes later, we’re all sat around the table, sipping our drinks, when Emma finally joins us. “Seriously, y’all, it’s not even half eight, and I’m the last one up?”

* * *

###### Emma

Half an hour, and a couple of cups of coffee later, I’m sat outside, huddled under a blanket with Erin. Mom and Chloe are just finishing their warm-up stretches. It’s freezing cold, but at least it’s dry, and there’s no snow. “Five bucks on Chloe,” Erin whispers to me.

“I’d hate to take your money, but you’re on,” I whisper back. While this is the first time the two of them have sparred with family as an audience, I’ve seen Ma practicing a few times.

“Ready to have your ass handed to you?” Chloe taunts.

“Just what I was about to ask,” Ma retorts. “Best three of five?” Chloe nods, and then they both spring into action. It’s like watching a scene from some martial arts movie. I know that either of them could end a fight in a few seconds – against a lesser-skilled opponent that they didn’t mind sending to the emergency room – but as this is a friendly bout where they’re trying not to hurt each other, it could take a while.

“Youth and vigor!” Erin shouts, encouraging her champion.

“Age and treachery!” I call in return, egging Ma on.

Chloe takes the first point, to cheers from Erin and Rachel. Ma takes the next two, earning her applause from Mom and I; my aunts seem to have decided to stay neutral. When Chloe takes the fourth point, the cheering is even louder, drawing them even with just one point to go. This one seems to take almost as long as the first four combined, and it looks like they’re both showing off a little for us, using flashy but easily blocked moves. Finally, it seems like they silently agree to finish it, and there’s a sudden blur of motion that ends with Chloe lying on her back while Ma victoriously punches the sky.

Rachel hurries over to help her girlfriend up and hug her, talking softly. Meanwhile, Mom jumps into her wife’s arms and they share a celebratory kiss. As the four of them head indoors, Victoria asks, “so, what was the prize?”

“Oh, we were fighting over who gets to use which bathroom,” Ma tells her. “I’ll be having a nice long soak in the bath, while Chloe is going to have to content herself with a quick shower before everyone else wants their turn.”

“I could join you…” begins Mom.

“Nope,” Kate tells her, “you’re needed in the kitchen.” She stops Chloe from following our parents inside, and tells her quietly, “you can use the bath in our room, okay? I think you could probably do with a good soak, too.”

“Thanks, aunt Kate,” Chloe says, looking awfully grateful.

“You’re needed in the kitchen too, though,” Kate tells Rachel, apparently intent on making sure that _nobody_ gets up to any mischief in her bathtubs. “You two as well,” she adds, eyeing Erin and me, before heading indoors.

“Damn. There were definite advantages to being too young to help with the cooking,” I moan.

“Oh, come on,” Erin says encouragingly, “with six of us in the kitchen, how long can it take?”

“I suppose. Don’t forget about those five bucks you owe me, though…”

* * *

###### Erin

We actually sit down to eat lunch before one o’clock; normally on Christmas and Thanksgiving it’s closer to three. I think it’s mostly due to the fact that the ham went in the oven yesterday evening thanks to an old recipe from some poor woman who got stuck with the name ‘Nigella’. As usual, there’s far more food than we could ever eat, so the rotating center of the table comes into its own. Of course, my plate is full to overflowing before it gets all the way around, so I resign myself to the fact that I’m going to have to come back for seconds.

By the time we’re done eating, my stomach feels like it’s about to explode, and that’s despite us unanimously agreeing to postpone dessert until later; _much_ later. When I look around at the rest of my family, none of them look to be in much of a hurry to move either – which is just fine with me. I’ve heard too many stories from friends at school about fraught holiday dinners with family members screaming at each other not to be grateful for what we have. I even grudgingly enjoyed helping out with the cooking earlier because, as I’d said to Emma, with so many of us involved, it didn’t feel like much of a chore.

When Mama asks, “so, who’s up for a nice afternoon stroll?” I groan, knowing it’s less of a question and more of an instruction. It takes a little while for Emma and Chloe to realize that, after shooting pleading looks at Rachel and me. A few minutes later, bundled up against the cold, we head down to the lake to do a circuit of the familiar path. It’s always well maintained, so even Mom’s chair makes easy work of it – one of the reasons they chose this place, I think. The fresh air perks me up, and after the first hundred yards or so, I decide that maybe walking isn’t so bad after all. It takes us about an hour, and by the time we get back to the cabin, I’m even ready to tackle that dessert.

After helping out with the cleanup, Emma and I retreat upstairs, to the far side of the mezzanine. There are a few over-sized beanbags there, perfect for us to sprawl on, each with a new book from our haul of Christmas gifts. It seems like everyone else is opting for some quiet time, too; Chloe and Rachel disappeared into their bedroom, muttering about taking a nap, and our parents are sat around the TV, watching some Christmas movie so old that it doesn’t even have color. I know that later we’ll be breaking out the games and quizzes; all very old school, but I find that I’m actually looking forward to it. I’ve even stopped thinking ‘I have to get through another week of this before we can finally go home,’ and instead it’s more like, ‘I get a whole week more of this before we have to go home.’ 

* * *

###### Emma

I’d never admit this to any of my friends from school, but the last few days have actually been kinda awesome. I know that literally all I’ve been doing is hanging out with my family, but in the hustle and bustle of everyday life, it’s easy to forget how nice it is to do just that. I was expecting to hate being trapped here, but I actually ended up begging off the trip into town to go grocery shopping because I have that little interest in leaving. I thought I’d miss the city, but it’s actually nice to be away for a few days; to breath fresh, clean air, and to look up at the night sky and see, like, a million stars.

Chloe and Ma have continued their morning sparring matches – Chloe finally won one a couple of days ago, on her fourth attempt – but the rest of us have restricted our exercise to sedate walks around the lake. Kate produced Aaron’s old chess set, which was passed down to him from his grandfather, and insisted that we should have a family tournament. Apparently the two of them used to play a lot, particularly back before they were married, so she’s currently winning handily. More of a surprise is that it’s Chloe and Rachel who are duking it out for second place, but it turns out that someone talked them into joining a chess club at Blackwell; I guess they’re taking our mothers’ advice to focus on their studies over partying seriously.

I’ve been brooding a little over something that happened just before we came away, but never for long. There’s always someone wanting to play a game, or watch a movie, or ply me with yet more food. Plus, I found a bunch of books on the shelves here that I wanted to read, so I’ve been spending plenty of time doing that, too. Most of all, I’ve simply been relaxing, something I rarely make the time to do at home.

I guess I’m not the only one; we all seem to have become a little quicker with a smile or a laugh over the few days we’ve been here. Everyone seems happy to join in with group activities, even things that might be considered chores, like cooking and cleaning. Sure, we’ve all been getting plenty of quiet time too – either singly or as couples – but never to the point of hiding away, or avoiding the rest of the family. Since that first morning, there’s been no need for any of the Moms to drag us out, or into doing something.

I have a feeling that I’m really going to miss all this, once we’re back home.

* * *

###### Erin

It’s New Year’s Eve, which means that our time here is almost over; tomorrow we’ll be heading back to Philadelphia, New York, and Arcadia Bay. It also means that it’s time for one last party, and Mama broke out the champagne to get things started. Perhaps a little too early and too much; playing _Cards Against Humanity_ with a seriously tipsy Mom was, whilst admittedly hilarious, also somewhat traumatizing. Right now, things are rather more mellow; there’s some gentle music on, and my aunts are slow-dancing. So are Chloe and Rachel; one thing that this week’s done has got us all to openly, if quietly, acknowledge their relationship. Mom is sleeping off the alcohol, curled up on a couch by the fire with her head on Mama’s lap.

Emma and I are sat watching the TV coverage of Times Square, mocking all the idiots standing out in the freezing cold, waiting for the ball to drop – and conveniently forgetting that we insisted on doing the same a couple of years ago. I catch her glancing over at the happy couples for what seems like the tenth time. “Wishing that Neal was here?” I ask, with a little bit of a smirk. She glowers, and I realize that she hasn’t mentioned her best friend slash mega-crush the whole time we’ve been here. “Sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, I’ve just been trying not to think about him, but We’re going to be back at school on Monday, and I should probably talk about it to _someone_.”

“What happened?”

“There was this pre-Christmas party, and he was actually dancing with me, even after a slow song came on. Just as it ended, I looked him in the eye and we had this… moment. I thought to myself, ‘this is it,’ and I went in for a kiss – only to find that he was already pulling back. It was super-awkward, and he saw what I was doing, so now I know that _he_ knows, and… ugh. It was the last song of the night, and the party was already running late, plus I had a couple of messages from Ma telling me to hurry up, so I just kinda turned and fled. That was the night before we drove out here, so I haven’t had a chance to see him since, and the only messages we’ve exchanged have been like, ‘have a good trip’ and ‘Merry Christmas’.”

She seems to run out of steam, and I take the opportunity to put an arm around her and pull her head down onto my shoulder. “I’m sorry, E, you’ve been bottling this up all week; you know you could’ve talked to me about it sooner.”

“I know, it just really sucks that Neal obviously doesn’t like me the way I like him, and now I’m terrified that I’ve fucked up our friendship too. It doesn’t help that they’re,” she gestures at our family, “all happily coupled up; even you’ve had a bunch of boyfriends, and I’m going to be sixteen next month and never been kissed…”

“Which would still make you a couple of years younger than your parents were when they first got together, and I know for a fact that was your Mom’s first relationship. As for my ‘bunch’ of boyfriends, I’ve had three, maybe four if you count Ben in fifth grade. The longest relationship I’ve had lasted just under five weeks, and we kissed exactly twice. Also, I don’t think I liked any of them half as much as you like Neal, so… don’t be so sure you’re actually missing out.”

“Thanks, E. I think the real problem is that I’m scared to talk to my best friend, but I just need to pull myself together and do it.”

“It’s the only way you’ll know,” I agree. I glance at the TV, and see that we’re only a quarter minute away from midnight. “As for that ‘never been kissed’ thing…” I join the voices from Times Square as we count down the last ten seconds of 2037, then lean over and gently kiss Emma on the lips. “Happy New Year,” I tell her quietly, and she gives me a small smile. “No sudden urge to kiss me back?” I ask, with a fake pout.

“I’m afraid not.”

“That’s okay, I guess we’re both still straight then.”

“I know; our mothers will be _so_ disappointed,” she deadpans, and we both burst into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended reading order: [Chapter One](/works/17392679/chapters/40935737) of _Pieced Together_.
> 
> So, this is going to be the last _Missing Piece_ for a while - in fact, I've only got a couple more chapter ideas left, and one of those is the "whole series final epilogue, honest" one. Hopefully, I'll start posting chapters of _Pieced Together _next month, I just need to sit down an thrash out an outline to plug the material I've already written into, figure out what the chapters are, etc. I'm shooting for something in the 10k-20k word range, but I guess we'll see...__


	17. All Good Things…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Kate, it's a time of endings and beginnings.
> 
> [F/F, T]

###### Victoria

Flying west never seems to have a happy cause these days. Last year it was after Dad’s heart attack; this year it’s Judith’s funeral. I’m not sure how I feel about her being gone, and I don’t think Kate is, either. Her relationship with her mother took a serious hit after I posted that awful video, and two more when she stood behind Ruth and Rachel as they came out. After that, I think the only reason they had a relationship at all is because of Erin. Judith always doted on _her_ , much like she did on Lynn, both paragons of Christian heteronormativity – outwardly, at any rate. As it turns out, Ruth is the first person we see when we arrive at the church; she and Kate immediately pull each other into a hug.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Kate says.

“I didn’t come for her,” Ruth replies. “I came for Lynn, for you, and for Dad.”

“I understand; I’m glad you’re here regardless.”

“Tori, always a pleasure.” Ruth plants a kiss on my cheek that’s dangerously close to the corner of my mouth.

“Behave yourself,” I tell her sternly. “I’m a one-Marsh woman.”

“Ah, but Kate hasn’t been a Marsh for _years_ – you should know, you were her maid of honor!”

I roll my eyes and leave her to talk to Kate whilst I greet her wife. “Hi, Zara, sorry about that; she’s been flirting with me since she was a teenager.” Zara favors me with a smile, and we talk quietly for a few minutes until we’re encouraged to take our seats. A couple of minutes later, Rachel and Chloe, and Erin and Nathan file in behind us, exchanging whispered greetings just before the service begins.

Lynn delivers the eulogy; it’s brief, but heartfelt, and she’s clearly holding back tears. I’m pleased to hear that she doesn’t gloss over Judith’s estrangement from her daughter and granddaughter, and expressing regret that she was unable to see past her beliefs… or her prejudices. It’s perhaps as much as should could be expected to say in public; while I’ve frequently heard her express her anger and frustration at her mother’s homophobia privately, around her sisters and nieces, Lynn would never have dreamed of doing so outside of the family.

The wake is at the Marsh house, which I’ve been to exactly once before, at Thanksgiving, when Erin was eighteen months old. That atmosphere was so strained by Judith’s reaction to Ruth’s coming out – and my place in Kate’s family – that we never came back. It feels sad that it took her death to bring us all here again. Still, I’m happy for the chance to spend time with my daughters; we only see each other a few times a year now that they have their own careers and families.

We’ve been there for maybe a couple of hours when Richard gathers a small group of us – Kate, Ruth, and Rachel, along with their respective spouses. “I wanted to apologize to you all,” he begins.

“On behalf of Mom?” Ruth asks, a little caustically. Zara rests a calming hand on her shoulder.

“No, I’m not going to apologize for Judith’s behavior, only for my own. I didn’t want to lose anyone over her intolerance, but in trying to be on everybody’s side I succeeded only in being on nobody’s side. I could have made more effort to see you even when Judith refused to, but I was too much of a coward to risk her wrath. I’ve hurt you all deeply, and for that, I can only hope that I will one day receive your forgiveness.”

“So… you don’t think we’re evil incarnate, then?” Chloe asks; Lisbeth’s bluntness has definitely rubbed off on her.

“No, unlike Judith I am able to ‘hate the sin, but love the sinner.’”

“So you still believe that homosexuality is a sin,” Chloe persists.

Richard bows his head. “Yes, that’s how I was raised, and to my shame, I’m unable to get past that. But… I do not believe that it’s a choice, and it would be a far greater sin to make my love conditional on you forsaking any chance of romantic love for yourself. I do not wish to believe that God would ask that of you, either.” He sighs, and I can see the conflict on his face and I think that, perhaps, finally, I understand him – even if I’m not sure that I can forgive him. “In any case, It is not for me to judge you, or to tell you how to live your life. As a father, I’m supposed to love my children and grandchildren without question, and I’m deeply sorry that I allowed my wife’s beliefs to get in the way of that.”

After a long silence, it’s Ruth who moves first, pulling him into a hug. “Apology accepted, Daddy.” Rachel’s next, and then the rest of his children and grandchildren, all of whom had drifted over to join us.

Kate is last, pushing herself up from her chair to embrace her father. “Thank-you,” she tells him, “I think we all very much needed to hear that.”

“Not least you,” he replies, briefly glancing in my direction. “I’m not as… willfully blind as your mother was.”

* * *

A few days later, back in Philadelphia, I’m heading home after a board meeting. Qadira is finally talking about stepping down as CEO, and we need to start looking for a successor. It’s going to be difficult to replace someone who’s been with me from the very beginning, but she’s earned her retirement – and then some. It’s been too long since we’ve had a chance to spend much time together; we arranged to have dinner later in the week so we can catch up on our lives outside of work.

“Meow,” Goose greets me loudly when I get home. Smiling, I crouch down to pet her; a few seconds later, her sister Saffron butts her head against my other hand until I start fussing her as well. Erin suggested we get a cat after she moved out, and we’d been complaining how quiet the house was with just the two of us living there. Kate insisted that we should adopt a rescue animal, but when we got to the shelter, it was this pair of kitties – both ginger, but one with white patches – who captured out hearts. They’ve done a good job of keeping us from getting lonesome.

I find Kate in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on our evening meal. We had this place custom-built when we downsized, a year our so after we got the cats, and there was some new-fangled tech that allowed the worktops – including the range and sink – to be moved up and down. This makes it much easier for Kate to cook from her wheelchair; in the old house, she mostly had to use a perching stool. I’d asked her if she wanted to see a doctor, find out if medical technology had also moved on, and they could finally do something to repair her legs. Kate just shrugged it off, telling me ‘this is who I am now; I don’t need to be fixed.’

I sidle over and plant a kiss on her cheek; she smiles at me. “Why don’t you go freshen up? Dinner should be ready in five minutes or so.”

Sure enough, by the time I’ve changed into something more comfortable, Kate is just putting plates on the table. “This looks wonderful,” I tell her. “To what do I owe the honor?”

She simply gives me a crooked smile, saying, “do I need a reason to make myself a delicious home-cooked meal? The fact that you get to enjoy it too is simply to avoid being rude.”

I laugh. “Touché. In that case, thank-you for graciously agreeing to share it with me.”

As we eat, we talk about our days, the comfortable back-and-forth of two people who’ve been living together for decades. I tell her about the board meeting, and inviting Qadira over; Kate tells me about some trouble she’s been having with parts of her latest book. Eventually, as we scrape the last of the lemon mousse from our bowls, there’s a lull in the conversation, and I see a curious expression on her face.

“What is it, Kate?”

She doesn’t reply at once, seemingly studying the table. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she says eventually. “For… a long time, actually. I kept putting it off, but I really don’t want to do that any more.”

I reach out to rest my hand on hers. “Well, you can ask me anything, you know that, right?”

Kate gives me a small smile. “I do.” Her continued hesitation has me worried that this is going to be something bad, like asking my permission to start dating some guy, or… Then, she rises her head, looks me right in the eye, and asks, “will you marry me?” My jaw drops, my eyes widen, and I feel my head begin to swim. I see Kate pull a jewelry box out of her pocket and open it, revealing an antique silver ring set with three small sapphires. It’s truly beautiful. “Tori? Are you okay?” Kate prompts me when I don’t say anything.

My mind is racing. For at least the first year after Erin graduated college and finally moved out, I lived in fear of the day Kate would say that she was ready to get back out there, finally start looking for someone to replace Aaron. No matter how many times she told me that she loved me, my insecurities wouldn’t go away. I still expected that someday she’d want to get re-married; I just didn’t expect it was me she would ask. “Yes,” I make myself answer. Then, again, “yes, to both your questions.” I lift my arm up as Kate removes the ring from its box.

“I bought this years ago,” she says. Both our hands are trembling as she slips the ring onto my finger. “I’ve been wanting to give it to you for a very long time, but after how Mom treated Ruth, and then Rachel… I don’t know why I cared so much about what she thought. Partly it was because I didn’t want to risk her relationship with Erin, but mostly… I was just scared. Now that she’s gone, I’m not scared any more, and I realized that I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.”

I get up, make my way around the table, and bend down to kiss my fiancée. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s more important to me that this happened when you were ready, than that I had to wait a little while. Just… let’s have a shorter engagement than Rachel and Chloe did, okay?”

Kate grins. “Deal. Now, why don’t you take me to bed? No expectations, I just really want to hold you right now.”

I smile, and lead the way. In this moment, I’d do anything she asked.

* * *

The next day, we make the obligatory calls to friends and family, and their reactions all boil down to ‘well, it’s about time’ – with varying levels of profanity. Even Kate’s father takes it well, and with little surprise; apparently he hadn’t been kidding about ‘not being willfully blind.’ Over the next week, we brainstorm venues, and lock down a date a little over six months later. Kate talks Max into being her Matron of Honor, despite her grumbling about how ‘it was bad enough having to wear a dress to my _own_ wedding.’ After some thought, I ask Qadira to be my Best Woman. She’s been at my right hand for so long at work, that it seems… right to have her there for this, too. What really seems to sell it to her is the promise of an expensively tailored three-piece suit – I assure her that it can be altered to remove the tails after the wedding – even if it’s just in time for her retirement.

The next few months pass by in a hectic blur; I hadn’t realized just how much more stressful planning my own wedding would be, compared to helping plan someone else’s. I have to make the actual decisions, rather than just coming up with a bunch of options. Kate helps, of course, but it’s her second time around, so she’s less invested in all the minutiae, instead insisting that I should have the wedding _I_ want. Still, I’ve always thrived under pressure, and this time is no exception. Besides, when all is said and done, what I really care about is that I’m marrying the woman I love; the rest is just window dressing.

Finally, the big day arrives. I stand nervously at the front of the room, with Qadira reassuring me that, yes, of course Kate is still coming. After what seems like an age, I hear the door open behind me, and Pachelbel’s Canon begins to play. I turn, and watch my beautiful daughters come slowly up the aisle. Behind them, follows Max, and then… Kate. My breath hitches as I see her, looking radiant on the arm of her father, flowers wrapped around the crutch held in her other hand. For a moment, I flash back to thirty-three years ago as I walked up the aisle in front of her, desperately wishing that I was the person waiting for her at the altar. So much has changed since then, but one thing hasn’t: I’m still head-over-heels in love with Kate.

This time, when Kate comes to a stop, it’s my hand she takes, me who’s the recipient of that heart-stoppingly beautiful smile. And, a few minutes later, it’s me who gets to tell her, “I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended reading order: [Chapter Six](/works/17392679/chapters/43108037) of _Pieced Together_.


	18. Pieces of Swift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if... life was a Taylor Swift song? A few alternate takes from the _Life in Pieces_ AU.
> 
> [ F/F, F/M, Teen]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those two words, "what if", seem to be the at the genesis of every fic I write (also the title of an awesome book by Randall Munroe, creator of XKCD.) This collection of drabbles and shorts is no different, and also draws on my other perennial source of inspiration: music. Some of you may have noticed that I've stopped a number of Taylor Swift references across my LiS fics, so this isn't exactly something new. She actually has the odd distinction of being one of the _very_ few artists for whom the first album of theirs I buy ( _1989_ ) doesn't remain my long-term favourite (that crown currently rests with _Speak Now_.) For these stories, I'm using songs from both.
> 
> P.S. This entire chapter should be considered non-canonical.

#### Mean

##### Thursday, October 17th 2013

I finally summoned up the courage to apologize to Kate today. I stumbled through my prepared speech, laid myself bare, and her response was… to sing to me. It was beautiful, and cruel, and true.

I hope she gets what she wants, that she gets to move to some big, cosmopolitan city, that she becomes strong enough that _nobody_ can hurt her.

She’s right about me, though; all I am is mean.

And a liar.

And pathetic.

And… alone in life.

I just hope that’s not all I’m ever going to be.

I don’t want to be mean any more.

#### Welcome to New York

###### Dana

That’s what Max says as we drop our bags on the floor of my apartment… _our_ apartment. It feels like a fresh start. Yes, the day of reckoning is only postponed, and we’re probably going to break up at the end of the summer, but for the next few weeks we can just… put out broken hearts in a drawer and live in the moment.

That evening we head down to Greenwich Village to explore. It’s a kaleidoscope of lights, and we simply wander, hand in hand, smiles on faces, taking it all in.

I can dance to this beat.

#### Enchanted

##### Sunday, March 20th 2016

I’m not exactly sure what woke me up, but I definitely heard noises from the kitchen. When they didn’t stop, I rolled over and checked the time on my phone: just after four AM. Grumbling, I got out of bed and grabbed a light robe from the back of the door, then headed out to see what was going on. I found Kate slumped in a chair at the dining table, sipping from a mug that she was clutching in both hands.

“Sorry, Tori, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, not looking up, and seeming to shrink in on herself a little. I padded over and sat down opposite her.

“That’s okay, Kate.” The next time she lowered her mug, I wrapped my hands around hers. “You know you can talk to me about whatever’s bothering you, right?” After a moment, she started to look up, then flushed and quickly dropped her head again. Looking down, I rolled my eyes, pulled my gaping robe tight, and re-tied it. “Sorry; I’m decent now.”

Kate took another sip of her tea, then asked, “why hasn’t he called me yet?” That was what was keeping her awake? I bit back a sarcastic response.

“It’s barely been a day, Kate, give him a little bit of time.”

“I guess…”

“You have his number too, right? Why haven’t _you_ called _him_? This is the twenty-first century, after all.”

“I couldn’t! I’d be too nervous…”

“And maybe he is too.”

“I just… I was so enchanted by Aaron, but I don’t even know if he’s single. We didn’t really talk about relationship stuff. He was there with some his friends; it could just have been a boys night out and he went home to his girlfriend.”

“There’s only one way to find out. Maybe he _doesn’t_ have a girlfriend right now, but if you leave it too long, maybe he will.”

Kate pouted at me. “I thought _I_ was supposed to be the sensible one.” Then, she smiled, and pulled me into a hug.

“I really hope this works out for you,” I told her. “You looked… wonderstruck when we came out of the club last night, and you practically danced all the way home.”

“I’ll call him right now,” she said, determinedly.

“Uh… it’s four in the morning.”

Kate blushed. “Right; after church, then – as long as I can get to sleep. If I was back home, I’d just climb in with Ruth or Lynn; cuddling up with one of them always helped.”

“Well, if you give me a minute to find some pajamas…”

Kate’s eyes lit up. “You would do that for me?”

“Cuddling a cute girl isn’t exactly a hardship for me, Kate.”

“You… think I’m cute?”

“That’s not my opinion, it’s simply a fact,” I told her, and hurried into my room before she could say anything else.

Kate, it turned out, dropped off almost straight away. I discovered that she talks in her sleep, though, mumbling “please don’t be in love with someone else” a few times. She woke up this morning with barely enough time to get dressed before running out the door, but when she got back from church I pressed her phone into her hand, and gave her a meaningful look. She sighed, and retreated to the other end of the room; I sat awkwardly in the kitchen, ~~pretending~~ trying not to listen.

I could hear Kate’s tone of voice going from nervous to animated, and I was pretty sure I heard her mention the name of the restaurant we went to that first time we went out for dinner together, so it wasn’t exactly a huge surprise when Kate came bounding over to tell me, “I have a date tonight!”

I smile broadly, despite the sudden weird nagging feeling in my chest. “I guess he was enchanted to meet you, too!”

#### Bad Blood

###### Max

Penny is on the defensive from the moment she sits down; I hadn’t immediately agreed to her plan, after all. She blusters about how ‘I’ve got no proof for my accusations,’ but her usual confidence isn’t there.

“We’ve got real problems,” I say, “and I don’t think you want to solve them.”

“I can _try_ to make more time for you…”

“That’s like trying to put a band-aid on a bullet hole,” I reply, dismissively.

“If you do this, you’ll regret it,” she says.

“So now we’ve got bad blood? Fine with me.”

I get up, and leave her behind.

#### Speak Now

##### Saturday, August 25th 2018

Because I have, like, the worst timing _ever_ , it’s only when I’m walking up the aisle that I finally realize how I feel about Kate. Pretty sucky, huh? Since I’m still an expert at fakin’ it ’till I make it, I kept my smile in place and walked smoothly to my place at the altar. I stood there in a daze trying to figure out what the hell to do, and then the preacher said, “speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

There was a moment’s silence, and I realized this was my last chance so, hands shaking, I stepped forward. Everyone was staring at me in horror, but I only had eyes for Kate. She gave me a questioning look and, with it, the strength to continue.

“This is the point where I’m supposed to tell you that you’re marrying the wrong guy, except you’re not. Aaron is awesome, and I could wish for a better husband for my best friend, only… I’m in love with you, Kate, and I just wanted to… check that you don’t feel the same way.”

I’d heard the collective sharp intake of breath from behind me, and then a low buzz of conversation. Kate was just staring at me, her mouth slightly agape. Sure, she hadn’t recoiled in disgust, but she wasn’t exactly jumping into my arms, either. I gathered what precious little was left of my pride, turned, and fled. Thankfully, I’d checked out the church thoroughly when we were planning the wedding, so I escaped the further indignity of having to walk back down the aisle, and instead bolted out of a side door. A few moments later, I was in the alleyway behind the building.

I leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. I was pretty sure that I’d just taken everything good in my life and thrown it away with both hands. I’d ruined my best friend’s wedding, and embarrassed myself beyond any hope of recovery. Kate would probably never speak to me again, and all the other friends I actually cared about would – rightfully – take her side. The tears came hard and fast, and I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the ground, not caring that I was ruining my dress in the process. When I heard the door open a few minutes later, I closed my eyes and silently willed whoever it was to go away. I’d already hit rock bottom; I didn’t need to a lecture on top of that. There was a shuffling of feet, a swishing of fabric, and then a soft voice a few inches from my face.

“Oh, Tori. Could you not have told me that a little bit sooner?”

My eyes flew open. “Kate? What are you doing here? You just got married…”

“Well, somebody rather threw that into disarray.”

“I’m am _so_ sorry; I don’t know _what_ I was thinking. You didn’t have to stop the whole thing because of my fuck-up, though!”

“I needed to check on you. What could be more important than looking after my best friend?”

“Uh… marrying the person you’re in love with?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t under…”

I didn’t get to finish what I was saying, because that was when Kate gently put her hands on the sides of my face, and pulled me into a kiss. It was soft, and tender, and loving, and so _very_ not platonic.

“I didn’t say a single vow,” she told me, in answer to my unasked question.

“Oh,” was all I managed.

“Yeah,” she said, and kissed me again.

#### Back to December

###### Max

I’ve never been a nervous flyer; not until today. Actually, it’s not the flying that I’m nervous about, it’s what comes after the landing. It takes me forever to get out of JFK – I swear, that place is a maze of twisty passages, all alike – and even longer to shuffle through the queue for a cab. I sit through the ride into the city in silence, wringing my hands and psyching myself up for what I was about to do. When we arrive, I get out of the car, look up at the apartment building, and check the piece of paper where I wrote down the address Kate gave me.

Fortunately, someone is coming out, so I’m able to catch the door and get inside without having to pass the first hurdle of getting buzzed through. I catch the lift up, walk down a carpeted hallway, and stop in front of a door. I check my note one last time to make sure I’ve got the right apartment, then crumple it up and stuff it in a pocket. Summoning up my courage, I knock. It’s maybe a minute before I hear the sound of locks being unlatched. The door opens a couple of inches – as far as the chain allows – and through the gap I can see the beautiful face I was hoping for.

“Max?” Dana asks.

“Er… hi. How’ve you been?” Lame, Caulfield, hella lame.

“Not great,” she replies, and I wince. She steps back a little, enough that I can see she’s wearing a bathrobe, but makes no move to open the door. I think I hear the faint sound of a shower starting up.

“Kate tells me that you’re training for a dance tour?”

Dana brightens a little. “Yeah, it’s been pretty great, actually. I’m really looking forward to getting on the road. You’re back in Seattle, working in a camera shop, right?”

I shrug. “It’s a living. How’s Dot doing?”

“She’s a sophomore now, which is pretty terrifying. Also, kinda mad at you.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I am so, _so_ sorry. Apparently what happened with Penny fucked me up far worse than I was willing to admit. She made me paranoid, and I ended up hurting the woman I love most in the world. But… that’s not an excuse; I could still have trusted you, or at least given you a chance to explain. I wasn’t even willing to take a few minutes to get your side of the story, and for that I have no excuse. So… if you want to leave that chain on your door, I understand.”

“You have no idea what you put me through,” Dana says softly.

“No, I don’t. All I know is that I’ve spent the entire time missing you, wishing I realized what I had. If I could go back to Kate’s wedding, turn around and change my own mind, then I’d do it in a heartbeat – but I don’t have that power any more.”

I try to gauge Dana’s expression, but I hear footsteps and see her look to the side. The door closes, and then a moment later opens fully to reveal a woman I recognize from my summer here: Jess. Her hair is damp, and my heart plummets when I realize they must have been in bed together when I knocked. I’m too late.

“I shouldn’t have come,” I mutter, turning to leave.

A hand gently gripping my arm makes me pause; looking back, I see that it’s Jess’s. She kisses Dana on the cheek, then gives us both a stern look. “You two need to work this out.” She gives my arm what I assume to be an encouraging squeeze, and then heads off.

Dana regards me, the faintest hint of a smile on her face. “Well, I guess you should come in, then.”

#### Style

###### Dana

“I think someone knows us a little too well,” Jess says when we get the song assignment for our spotlight dance.

“Well, they’re not wrong, whoever they are,” I tell her. “So, which of us gets to be Taylor?”

“That’s easy; you can pull off that red-lipped classic thing way better than me.”

“Right…” I drawl. “You just want to see me in a tight little skirt.”

“Or out of it.” She gives me a lecherous wink.

I roll my eyes, but kiss her anyway. We might not ever be an official couple, but we never go out of style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended reading order: [Chapter Seven](/works/17392679/chapters/43530062) of _Pieced Together_.
> 
> …and now we go back to our regularly-scheduled programming. Next up will (almost certainly) be the grand finale, in which every viewpoint character from this entire series gets to have their say, plus there are at least twice that many secondary characters to check in on…


End file.
